


The Babysitter

by TheScholarlyStrumpet (equipoise)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Tumblr Prompt, babysitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equipoise/pseuds/TheScholarlyStrumpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Mr. Gold forgets something at his house & goes back to go get it. When he arrives he hears his son's babysitter moaning and thinks she has a boy over. When he goes into his bedroom he finds her touching herself on his bed alone moaning his name.</p><p>* <a href="http://theespensonawards.tumblr.com/winners">2016 Espenson Award</a> winner for Best Barely Legal Belle!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Well that evening had been a fucking disaster.

It was the absolute last time he let Regina set him up on a date. She could have at least had the courtesy to warn him that her half-sister was a complete nutter. Exhaling heavily, Randall Gold fiddled with the keys to his front door. Bailey would already be in bed by now, so there wasn’t really much waiting for him at home. But at least he had gotten away from that bloody redhead relatively unmolested.

Honestly, who talked about marriage that much on a first date?

He closed the door quietly and flipped the lock. Going out after work was a rare occurrence for him but luckily Belle had been available to stay late. The petite 18 year old brunette was an absolute favorite with his boy. The two of them played together as naturally as though they had been acquainted for years, even though Belle had only been babysitting him for a few months. She was rather a favorite with Randall, as well, but he felt like a pervert just thinking it.

She was a senior at Storybrooke High and worked part time in her father’s flower shop. For years he had only known her because he collected rent there every month. When Bae’s previous sitter had moved away, he had asked around about anyone known to be reliable with children. Over and over, the townsfolk of Storybrooke pointed him toward Belle French.

So, she had come traipsing to his house with an armful of books and a smile that made him weak in the knees. Bae had taken to her instantly. Her school schedule allowed her to walk home with Bae and stay until Randall got home from work. She still worked weekends in her father’s shop, but Randall made sure that he paid more than enough to keep her coming back on the weekdays. He kept telling himself that it was all for Bae, but he knew the truth. He just liked coming home to those beautiful blue eyes that lit up when he walked through the door.

Belle was intelligent, kind, and so far out of his league – even if he hadn’t been twice her age and some change. But every day at around 6pm, he could pretend, just for a little while, that she was his. That they were just one happy family. Once in a while, he even managed to persuade her to stay for dinner. Well, he allowed Bae to do the persuading, which is probably why it worked.

But the school year was ending and Belle would be off to college in a matter of months. The more he tried not to think about it, the more it haunted him. It was disgusting, really, getting that attached to a teenager. She would run screaming into the night if she even suspected some of the fantasies he’d been having about her. They weren’t all lascivious. Some were quite charmingly domestic, actually. He wondered what it might be like to spend Christmas together, decorating the tree and singing carols. Putting Bae to bed and drinking egg nog by a roaring fire. Before laying her down in front of it and unwrapping his favorite present of all…

Alright, perhaps they were a bit more lascivious than he’d thought. Which was why he’d finally given into Regina’s suggestion about setting him up on a blind date. Which he was starting to realize may have had more to do with Regina wanting to foist her needy sister off on someone else than it had to do with his own needs. Conniving bitch. Why was he friends with her again?

Oh right. Power. Good to keep your enemies closer and all that.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, dropping his keys on the table by the door and removing his shoes. The living room was oddly empty when he reached it. An abandoned book lay over the arm of the sofa. He leaned over to read the cover.

_Her Handsome Hero._

He pulled a face. He hadn’t thought Belle would be the type to read such self-indulgent dreck. Then again, how well did he even really know the girl? Active fantasy life aside, she’d really only been in his life a few months. Not even a full year, yet. And even if she was decidedly an old soul, she must surely have the raging hormones of any young girl. Why shouldn’t she read and enjoy romance novels?

Speaking of which, she didn’t seem to be reading it, at the moment. He glanced around for any sign of where she could have gone. The lights were off upstairs, so he head toward the kitchen. That, too, was empty. But he could see a sliver of light from under the hallway door.

His eyes narrowed. Why would anyone be in that hallway? The only thing there was his bedroom and bathroom. Due to his leg injury, he had moved his bedroom down to the first floor. He disliked being so far from Bae, at night, but the stairs had been killing him. And Bae was nearly 10, old enough to sleep unattended, by now.

There was a soft sound coming from the end of the hall – his bedroom. The light was off in the bedroom but the door was cracked. He walked toward it, keeping his steps as light as possible. He held his cane with one hand, leaning a bit on the wall for support.

There it was again! Sort of a sighing, whispering sound. Then a squeak.

And a moan. That one was distinctly the sound of a woman enjoying herself. In his bedroom.

Fucking hell… had Belle brought a boy over? It was most unlike her, but… what if he really _didn’t_ know her at all? What if she had some great hulking football player boyfriend who was deflowering her right this moment?

His lips pulled back into an involuntary snarl and he hefted his cane like a weapon as he drew closer.

The bedspring creaked once more and Belle made another breathy sound that was almost a word, but with most of the consonants missing.

Randall clenched his hand around his cane, his knuckles turning white. Despite his mounting fury, he was increasingly aroused by the sounds she was making. He paused to adjust himself in his trousers. Wouldn’t do to beat Belle’s boyfriend to a pulp whilst sporting an erection, would it?

Finally at the door, he peeked inside…

Only to find no boyfriend at all. Only one very distracted teenage girl, skirt hiked up to her waist and hand buried beneath her knickers. Her head was thrown back, grinding against his pillow. Her sinuous legs, paler than usual in the moonlight, were spread akimbo. Her hand was working in a furious rhythm between them. Her body was stretched taut across his bedspread, hips thrusting wildly against her own ministrations.

He was instantly rock hard, straining against his zipper. His mouth fell open.

He should look away. This was not a moment he was meant to witness!

But she was doing it in his bloody bed and all!

He swallowed hard as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. He could see the tense column of her neck and he longed to sink his teeth into it. To mark her as his own and make her forget about whoever had sent her seeking her pleasure in the first place.

She moaned again, this time with a few little articulations of _yes_ and _please_.

Knowing he would hate himself for it in the morning, he reached down to cup himself. He was nearly aching with need, now.

Belle’s mouth worked and her free hand grasped at the blanket beneath her. A chorus of _yes_ and _please_ and a swear word or two began to fall from her lips. And then she was arching nearly clear off the bed with the first coherent sentence he had heard her utter.

“Yes! Fuck me harder, Randall!”

His eyes flew wide.

Stifling her mouth with her free hand, Belle came.

 With a spurt of sticky warmth, Randall realized he had too.


	2. Chapter 2

Randall was frozen to the spot, his heart hammering against his ribcage. Belle lay sprawled across his bed, limp and sated. She had not yet opened her eyes and she would have to tilt her head pretty far back to see him. So, he was safe, in a manner of speaking, until she decided to get up. Rather than risk discovery, however, he edged slowly away. He took even more care this time, holding his cane close to his chest. One hand flat against the wall kept him as steady as possible.

He managed to make it back to the kitchen, thanking his past self for keeping the hinges on the door well oiled. Shuffling to the front door, he opened it quietly and closed it with a thud. It wasn't loud enough to wake Bae (who slept like a log, anyway) but should have been enough to alert Belle that he was home. He'd have loved a chance to change his trousers before facing her but seeing as she was occupying the same room as his only other trousers.... at least the dark, coarse fabric made for decent camouflage....

As he mimed the actions of throwing down his keys and slipping off his shoes, he kept half an eye on the living room.

By the time he had reached the sofa, Belle was strolling casually out of the kitchen, holding a yogurt. She was there frequently enough that he kept the refrigerator stocked with snacks he knew she liked. He had long since given her free range to help herself.

There was a flush across her cheeks and down into the modest amount of décolletage revealed by her blouse. A light sheen of sweat made her glow, even in the low light of his parlor. No doubt both were from her earlier exertions. God, how he wanted to taste the salt on her skin....

His hands trembled and he shoved the one not holding his cane into his pocket.

Belle nonchalantly nodded toward him. "Oh hey, Mr. Gold."

 _Just be casual_.

As though he hadn't just witnessed her in an intensely private moment. In his bed. Moaning his name.

_Fucking hell._

"Evening, Belle."

"I made mac and cheese for Bae and put him to bed. He did all of his homework and we even started his project for the Science Fair." She peeled the lid off of the yogurt. "I was just going to have some dessert. Did you want some?" She held the yogurt toward him.

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t even had dinner yet, actually.”

“Mm, I thought you were home awfully early for a first date. Not that I’m judging!” She brought the lid to her mouth and licked the excess yogurt from it, her tongue curling across the shiny surface.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Randall shifted so that the sofa could block her view of his lower body. For a man rounding on 50, his prick apparently hadn’t gotten the memo about prolonged refractory periods. “Well, I appreciate your lack of… judgment. Please feel free to stay as long as you like and finish your treat. I told you 4 extra hours and I intend to pay you the full amount, either way.”

Belle grinned. “You have got to be the most generous man in Storybrooke.”

As she crossed to the sofa, he turned to walk into the kitchen. “I sincerely doubt that. But I do believe in a fair deal. You agreed to be here and I agreed to pay you.”

“But you don’t have to pay me for hours not worked,” she pointed out. “Plus, you always let me raid your fridge. And you gave me that lovely first edition of Byron for Christmas.”

Randall floundered. The book of poetry had been in his collection for some time but the moment Belle had admired it, he knew it would be hers. Christmas had just been a convenient excuse. At length he shrugged. “Incentives to keep an excellent employee. Nothing more. And let’s keep any mentions of generosity just between us. I have a reputation to maintain, yeah?”

She giggled and flopped onto the sofa. “Oh, I’m not telling. I’d like to keep this job all to myself.” She ate a spoonful and then looked up, thoughtfully. “Is that selfish?”

“I’m hardly the person to ask,” he admitted, frankly.

She seemed to contemplate this as he prepared himself a sandwich. He had barely made it through hors d’oeuvres with Zelena and he was starving. The pull of fabric at his groin reminded him that he ought to change his clothes soon, but there didn’t seem to be a very good excuse to do so until Belle left.

By the time he had settled into the easy chair beside the sofa, Belle had finished her yogurt. She placed the empty cup on the table beside her. “I don’t think it is selfish,” she continued her previous thought. “I think it’s just… knowing a good thing when you have it. That’s just common sense, really.”

Randall nodded approvingly. “Well, I always knew you were a head and shoulders above your peers. Figuratively speaking, of course.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Was that a height joke? Really? You must’ve had a bad night. You never go for the cheap shots…”

She was right, of course. When he did tease her, he tried to be a little more inventive. But he was finding it increasingly difficult to make conversation with the early stirrings of a second hard-on. The longer they sat, the more convinced he became that he should throw her back against the sofa and have his wicked, wicked way with her. Consequences be damned!

If her unintentional display earlier had been any indication, he would be more than welcome.

But she was still only 18 and in high school. What right did he have to take advantage of some odd schoolgirl crush she seemed to have developed on him? Who was he to think that he could even endeavor to deserve her favor for more than a dalliance? And he wasn’t interested in bedding her for a night, slaking some lust before sending her on her merry way. No, he wanted her in his life, for good.

He wanted to clear the sleep from his eyes every morning and see her lovely face on the pillow next to his. He wanted to walk down the street with her arm tucked neatly into his, murmuring sweet nothings in one another’s ears. He wanted to hire someone else to babysit Bae so he could take her to a four star hotel and make her moan so loudly the walls would shake.

 _When had he become such a sap?_ He bit back a rueful smile. Probably the day he first heard Belle say “Mr. Gold” in that remarkable accent of hers.

Sex had never improved any relationship he’d ever had. Oh, it seemed that way at the time, but they always turned south, eventually. After enough failed romantic relationships, he had come to see that the common denominator was, well… him. Better for all involved that he stay off the market, contenting himself with fantasies and the occasional one-night-stand when he went out of town on business.

Better for Belle, most of all, not to wake up one day and find herself shackled to an old cripple.

“Mr. Gold?” Her soft voice interrupted his reverie and he looked up, guiltily.

“Sorry… wool-gathering. Yes, to answer your question, it was a remarkably bad evening. And I’m sorry about the short joke. I haven’t really got room – or height, as it were – to talk…” He offered her a crooked smile.

Belle chuckled, forgiving him instantly (as she always seemed to, even when he was cross or uncouth). “I think you’re exactly the right height, Mr. Gold. I can even give you a hug without suffocating in your shirt.” She made a silly face and he was successfully diverted from his darker musings.

Absolutely incredible how she always seemed to do that with such ease. She brought out the best in him, of that he had no doubt. He would miss the man he was _with_ her almost as much as he would miss her, when she was gone.

After a moment of grinning at one another like fools, Belle bit her lip and looked away, her cheeks tinged pink. She got up to throw away her empty container and began packing her books when she came back.

“I should really get out of your hair. It’s almost 10, now, anyway.”

Dismay settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. “Yes, of course. I’m sure you have a lot to do, tomorrow.”

Belle shrugged. “Not really. Dad doesn’t need help right now. Just doing some laundry, then working on some college essays…” She looked at him hopefully. “Did you need something? I can come back and help Bae with the science project some more, or… something.”

Tomorrow was Saturday, which meant the shop would be closing early. Bae spent most Saturdays at soccer practice or some other social activity and then over at his friend August’s house. Then Randall picked him up and either took both boys out for pizza and arcade games (sometimes a movie) or brought Bae home and made dinner. Pizza nights were decided by August’s grandfather, based on how well behaved both boys had been, that day. They tended to happen once per month or so.

For a long moment, Randall considered asking Belle to join them for pizza and a movie. He could see them sitting cozily on one side of the booth while the boys stuffed their greasy faces. Perhaps in the dark of the theatre, he could even find the courage to slip her hand into his. Perhaps she would be the bold one and place her hand on his leg… moving it upward to where he would already be aching for her touch…

 _No!_  He shook himself away from that thought with a stern, reproachful tone.

He covered his lapse into fantasy by getting up and helping her into her coat. "No, you deserve a day off, sweetheart. Enjoy it."

Belle's mouth twisted. "Enjoy what? Still too cold to go outside for long. The library's been closed forever and I've read every book I own ten times. Don't you have anything I could help with? You don't need to pay me or anything, I just like being… um…helpful." Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes slid away from his face.

Well, if the girl was practically throwing herself on his mercy, so bored she would rather spend her time cooped up with the town monster than among her friends… The only truly benevolent thing to do was give her what she wanted. It might test his sanity to the breaking point but, how could he possibly turn down the chance to spend a little more time in her company?

"Alright…" he stalled for time, thinking quickly. "Come to the pawn shop tomorrow around noon. I'll put you to work."

She clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet with glee. "Absolutely!"

"One caveat." He raised a finger.

She blinked, her smile fading slightly at the edges. "Yes?"

"I insist on paying you for your time."

Belle relaxed with an easy grin. "Oh, if you insist. Generous man that you are."

He gave her a mockingly stern look. "Now we talked about that, Miss French."

"I know. No one else will ever know. Our secret." She winked.

His heart flipped on its axis and he swallowed hard. "Get yourself home, cheeky girl."

"Goodnight, Mr. Gold."

"Good night, Belle."

And she was gone.

He leaned against the closed front door. He had offered more than once to drive her home but she always demurred. Storybrooke was impeccably safe, despite having a limited police force. Everyone knew everyone, whether they wanted to or not. Besides, she only lived two blocks away. She and her father lived above his flower shop, which was less than a block from Randall's pawn shop.

Where she would be spending an afternoon in his company, tomorrow.

Just the two of them. Alone. In an enclosed space.

_For the love of… what had he just done?_


	3. Chapter 3

 

The cold night air felt amazing against her skin. Belle had been burning up from the inside most the evening. She had finished her schoolwork earlier than usual and taken up an old favorite book. It was just a trashy romance novel Ruby had given her as a gag years ago. But Belle could never bear to leave a book unread. So, she had skimmed through it one day when she was bored. She hadn’t been entirely prepared for the level of graphic detail but it was, nonetheless very… informative.

At 12, she had needed to take to the internet to even understand how a few of those positions even worked. Now, of course, she was a little more familiar. And Ruby was always happy to supply extraneous details, if she did have questions.

She tended to carry the novel at the bottom of her bag for when she was bored. Randall didn’t have cable and she didn't know his computer password. So, after Bae went to bed, she was glad she’d had the book. It helped her ignore the restless butterflies in her stomach, for a while. They had been fluttering madly since she first learned that Randall was going out on a date.

It was ridiculous and probably a little sick, but she had rather liked the thought of him only spending time with her and Bae in the evenings. Bae was a darling and she absolutely adored him. Randall… well, Randall aroused such thoughts that she felt even the author of  _Her Handsome Hero_ might blush. She felt as though she ought to be ashamed for harboring such filthy fantasies about a man twice her age. He was mature, educated, and well established. She feared she would never be anything more than the young girl who tended his son, in his eyes.

It truly wasn’t fair that by simple consequence of birth she was only just beginning when he already had so much life experience.

She had noticed him years ago, when he would stop by for the rent. He cut such an imposing figure in those exquisitely tailored designer suits, his dark piercing eyes sweeping over the shop.

Her father hated him. Called him every name in the book, behind his back. But Randall had never been anything but kind to her. When rent day happened to coincide with her 16th birthday, the only highlight of the day had been his presence. While waiting for her father to return from the bank, she had casually mentioned that it was her birthday. Without a second thought, Randall had bought the prettiest red rose they had in stock and presented it to her. It was a silly gesture, especially given that she worked around flowers all day. But it had warmed her cheeks and made her heart beat just a little bit faster. She had hung the rose upside down to dry in her room that night. It still occupied a small glass vase by her bedside.

Everyone grumbled about how stingy Randall Gold was, what a trickster he could be with his exacting deals. Yet, all she saw was a man who insisted on fairness, down to the very letter of the law. She became convinced there was more to him than Storybrooke believed. But it wasn’t easy to get close to him. Not to mention that she stayed very busy with Father’s shop and every babysitting gig or odd job she could obtain.

There was just never enough money. Moe French was scraping together pennies by the end of each month. It was usually up to her to keep food on the table and make sure the water and electric got paid. When Randall had offered her a long term position as Bae’s sitter, she had jumped at the chance. It was a dream come true! Bailey Gold was a delight; precocious, inquisitive, and sweet. And now she got to see Randall every evening, Monday through Friday.

At first, she had been content to merely get to know the man behind the pawnbroker’s steely mask. Once she started to see how warm he could be, how kind and funny, it only drew her further in. Now she wanted so much more. She didn’t just want to know him, she wanted to be a part of his life. She wanted to make breakfast for him and for Bae in the mornings and know exactly how he took his coffee (or tea). She wanted to plan vacation getaways together, Bae wedged between them on the sofa, pointing out attractions he wanted to see most. And she wanted to meet Randall’s eyes over Bae’s head and just  _know_  that this was a man who cherished their every moment together.

It was ludicrous to feel that way, at her age. She knew that. She was far too young for motherhood, especially to a boy who had been born when she was 8. She had always wanted to go away to University, to travel and see the great wonders of the world. To have adventures the way only the unfettered can. At the same time, picturing a life without Randall or Bae in it was becoming increasingly painful.

She had brooded over this as she skimmed her book, that night.

At some point in their acquaintance, the face of Hercule, the protagonist of  _Her Handsome Hero_ , had taken on a very Randall Gold-like quality. She skipped over the description of his amber curls and athletic physique. Her mind’s eye replaced that with feathery brown hair, just starting to grey at the temples, and a slender frame that looked as though it would fit against hers perfectly.

When she ran her own hands along her body, she pictured Randall’s elegant tapered fingers, calloused where he held a pen over his ledgers. She thought about his mouth, hot and wet against her neck, suckling at her breasts. She wanted to run her hands through his hair – she knew it would be just as soft as it looked – and guide him down between her legs. She longed to take him in her mouth and taste his desire for her. Most of all, she was aching to feel him sliding inside of her, taking her in any position he chose. She didn’t know them all, even with Ruby’s help, but oh! she was more than willing to learn….

With that in mind, she had somehow found herself stumbling desperately into Randall’s bedroom. It was all too much and she needed a release, fast. It was so very wrong and dirty, crawling onto his bed, the smell of his cologne still lingering on his pillow. But she had been too far gone to care. She left the door cracked so she could hear and stop herself if Bae approached.

Engulfed in Randall’s scent, she had given herself over to the fantasy. Her hands worked frantically, mimicking the way that she wished he would touch her. As the Randall in her mind thrust himself deeply within, she had come hard, only remembering just in time to muffle her cries.

Only minutes later, the man himself had apparently come through the front door. Adrenaline coursed through her like an electric shock. She had jumped up and straightened the bedspread as best she could before darting into the kitchen to make it look as though she had been there all along.

What followed was such a jumble of forcibly casual conversation and barely contained guilt, she cringed now, even thinking about it. She had been positively elated that his date was such a disaster, though she thought she had hidden that well. Riding high on that good news coupled with the lingering effects of both post-orgasmic chemicals and adrenaline, she had managed to finagle a chance to spend more time with him.

She had been desperate to get him alone for ages. Accepting every dinner invitation that Bae issued in the hopes that Randall would invite her to stick around after the boy had gone to bed. Not that she didn’t love the little lad for his own sake. But it was Randall’s attention she so urgently craved.

Walking home, some of the bliss began to wear away and Belle was struck with the realization that she would be alone with Randall, at long last. For at least 4 hours until he closed the shop, tomorrow. What on earth had she even intended to do? Back him into the shelves and beg to give him a blowjob? Hop up on the glass counter with no panties and ask him if he liked the display?

For all that she hadn’t been a virgin since she was 16 (there had been a boy in Brisbane that summer she’d gone to visit relatives. It had seemed like a good idea, at the time.) Belle had very limited experience when it came to men. She hadn’t the slightest idea to even indicate that she was interested, let along gauge his reaction.

If Ruby’s good natured jokes were to be believed, Belle was the most utterly oblivious flirt in existence. Unless a boy asked her out or made his intentions explicitly clear, she almost always missed the signs. Of course, with most other men, she wasn’t really looking for them.

Perhaps it would be different with Randall. She would certainly be on high alert for any chance at all that he might see her as more than an employee or, worse, a child.

Yes, tomorrow was the chance she had been waiting for. She would go home and comb through every part of her wardrobe for something that might appeal to him. Her usual pleated skirts, button down shirts, and mary jane flats didn’t seem seduction-worthy. She could even text Ruby a couple of selfies, in hopes that one outfit or another struck the right chord.  

She sent her friend a quick text.

_Finally got some along time with the mystery man. Need fashion advice, stat._

A few weeks ago, Ruby had correctly surmised that Belle was mooning over someone. Embarrassed, Belle had confessed a few of the details but nothing that would implicate Randall, specifically. Ruby had been none too pleased about not knowing the guy’s name but now she seemed to think it was a bit of a game. Belle would give her clues (sometimes intentionally misleading ones) and every couple of weeks, Ruby would venture a new guess.

So far, she had paired Belle with every member of the graduating class and a few younger staff members.

Ruby was great at following a clear trail of evidence but she was crap at guessing games. But it kept her involved and left their friendship intact, despite the secret keeping.

Belle’s phone buzzed.

_U know it, babe. Send me pix._

Belle was about to reply when it buzzed again. 

_But if I pick the outfit that gets u laid, u gotta reveal bachelor #1. im dyin here_

Belle chewed on her lower lip. What were the chances she would actually have sex with Randall, perfect outfit or no?

It was worth the risk. She texted back.  


_Deal._


	4. Chapter 4

Randall had been restless all night, tossing and turning as visions of Belle danced through his head, in varying states of undress. He had eventually given up and taken a shower. He had planned for it to be a cold shower. Yet, it occurred to him that perhaps unloading the chamber, as it were, might be a better way to start the day.

As the hot water beat down on his skin, he let his mind wander. It was still chilly outside and Belle was partial to her short skirts, sometimes with tights. He might offer her a chance to warm up in the shower. With him.

He would watch as she peeled off one layer after another. Her jumper, shirt, and skirt would fall to the floor. The tights she would remove very slowly, teasing him by arching her back and rolling them down one leg at a time. He wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of her as he removed his own clothing and stepped into the shower.

Randall squeezed a dollop of body wash onto the loofah and lathered it.

In his mind, Belle was reaching behind to unhook her bra – something pastel and lacy, delicately feminine. She dropped it with a giggle, covering her breasts in a kind of playful modesty. Then she was turning around so he could get an eyeful of her pert bottom and pink slit as she slid down her knickers. Even from a few feet away, at the shower door, he would be able to see the dewy arousal glistening there. She would step into the spray of the water, just as the steam was beginning to cloud the air, and grab the loofah from his hand.

“Here, let me take care of you, Mr. Gold.”

“Randall.” He would correct her, breathlessly.

She would bite her lip and nod. “Randall.”

He ran the frothy loofah over his chest, imagining it was in Belle’s capable hands.

She would swirl it over each nipple, causing them to tighten up. Across the taut muscles of his stomach, teasing the sparse hair that led downward to his straining cock. She would hum her approval as his hardness jumped toward her, so eager for the attention.

“Oh, and what do we have here, Randall?” she would coo with delight.

“It’s all for you, Belle,” he would confess, without hesitation.  “It’s what you do to me.”

“I’m glad.” She would sink to her knees, running the loofah down each of his legs with one hand and bringing the other up to grasp him.

He would cant his hips shamelessly into her touch.

“This is what I think about too, you know. When I touch myself at night or sometimes….” she would look up shyly, “in your bed.” A slow slide of her fingers against his shaft would make him moan aloud. “Do you mind? That I like to make myself come while thinking about you?”

“God, no,” he would pant, losing himself in the sensation of the steamy water and the eagerness of her hot little hand, assured of their mutual desire.

“Do you want to watch me?” she would ask excitedly. “I want you to watch. I want you to see what you do to me…”

“Oh, yes… oh please, yes. Belle…. I want to be the one to touch you. To make you come… I want to taste you…” the words fell from his lips like a mantra, like a prayer.

“Yes, Randall. I want you, so much….”

She would continue to wash and stroke him, eyes full of adoration. The twisted scars of his ankle and calf wouldn’t even faze her, she would be so fixated on touching him.

He bucked into his hand, the loofah dropping to the shower floor. The Belle in his mind quickened her pace, determination and unbridled lust in her steady gaze. Randall came with a stifled cry, his free hand grasping at the handle that was fixed to the shower wall so that he could keep his balance.

As the evidence of his shame circled the drain, Randall realized that this had been a terrible idea.

***

Lunchtime on Saturday arrived far too quickly and yet not fast enough. Wanking in the shower had not taken the edge off in the slightest. If anything, it seemed to have fanned the flames. He found himself scouting out areas in the backroom where he might find excuses to get closer to Belle. The front of the shop was too exposed by its bay windows (however cluttered they were by merchandise).

The back room required a certain amount of navigation and he could easily excuse a hand on her arm or shoulder – perhaps her lower back if he was feeling bold.

But no more than that little indulgence would he allow. Belle was so very young. Not quite as innocent as he had once thought, but an innocent nonetheless. Whatever her hormone-addled mind might be telling her, he was certain she did not need his grubby hands on her nubile flesh. If only he could get his nether regions to believe that.

The bell at the door tinkled softly and his shoulders went rigid. He did not move from behind the glass counter as Belle appeared. She was wearing a coat and sporting two paper bags.

“I brought lunch!” She held the bags aloft.

Randall eyed her, his face unreadable. “That was… very kind of you.” He took both from her with one hand and turned to the curtain that separated the back room from the shop. “Come on, I’ll get you set up back here and we can eat.”

Belle hesitated, her heart already starting to beat faster at the notion of being so sequestered with him. “Should I… would you like me to flip the sign to Closed?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll hear the door if anyone comes in.”

“Oh. Right.” Oddly disappointed, Belle followed him. _What did you think, Belle? That he was gonna close the shop and shag you senseless just because you brought lunch? Grow up!_

Although, it would have made her intended seduction much easier. She fiddled nervously with the sash on her coat.

_Bring him food_ , Ruby had said. _Something sexy._

Belle didn’t have the slightest idea what food was considered sexy but she knew it needed to be portable. So, a huge shared platter of spaghetti (a la Lady and Tramp) was out. Plus, it was rather messy to eat if you weren’t an adorable cartoon dog. She had agonized over the menu at Granny’s for so long that Granny, herself, was starting to look at her oddly. In the end, she went with a personal favorite.

“Hamburgers?” Randall had opened the bag and popped open the styrofoam. Shifted to one side was a sloppy mass of bun, condiments, and greasy meat, French fries were scattered across the entire container. His stomach turned slightly. He never ate at Granny’s anymore. It had been a favorite with Milah, his ex-wife. She hated to cook, so when it was her turn, she tended to suggest going out. There were only a few restaurants in town and Granny’s was the closest. They had spent many a night not talking to one another over rubbery lasagna or over-done steak.

Belle nibbled at her lower lip. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s… it’s very thoughtful of you, Belle.” He gingerly prodded at the meaty glop. How was he going to consume this in front of her without looking like a fool? He had visions of grease and ketchup dripping onto his silk tie. Luckily, before he could dwell long on that problem, another neatly presented itself.

Belle removed her coat. And Randall promptly lost all ability to talk or breathe, let alone eat.

Under the simple gray wool, she was wearing what could only be described as a lingerie-inspired (if it wasn’t technically lingerie - he really couldn’t be clear on the distinction) top and the tightest skirt that could possibly have been in her closet.

Belle swallowed hard as she boldly threw her coat over the back of the nearest chair. The top was something else that Ruby had gotten her as a gift, once. Shortly after her return from Australia, she had confessed the loss of her virginity. Ruby had insisted on a celebratory shopping spree. They had spent hours trying on everything from lace bras split open where the nipples would show, to something leather that had so many straps Belle had actually gotten tangled in them and almost needed to call the salesgirl.

Eventually, Belle had allowed Ruby to talk her into this bustier. It was from a fashion shop, not a lingerie store. Rather than hooks and eyes, it zipped up the back. But it had padded cups in a sweetheart neckline and a crisscross of ribbons that cinched it at the waist and allowed some room to flare at the hips. Over text, Ruby had insisted that was the top to stop any man’s heart (or get other parts of him going, she added with a winky face). At the last minute, Belle had nervously thrown a shrug over her shoulders. She just felt a little too exposed with no straps or sleeves at all.

With the top as a centerpiece, they had paired a fitted satin pencil skirt. Ruby wanted a shorter one, but Belle had worn plenty of short skirts around Randall. This one had a more sophisticated, adult tone. Plus, her derriere was in rare form in this, especially when she bent over (and yes, she had been practicing that in the mirror). There was a slit in the fabric to about mid-thigh that allowed her movement and would show just a hint of the stocking top when she sat (and alright, she had practiced that, too).

Randall blinked rapidly at her, his entire body going tense and hot. His skin felt itchy and on too tight. His trousers were definitely on too tight. He quickly sat down at the table and fixed his attention back on the hamburger.

_Fuck._

_What was she bloody doing to him?_

It had to be on purpose. She’d said herself she had no other plans for the day. So, Belle French had worn this outfit specifically for his consumption. The dangerous little vixen.

She was standing so close, lingering uncertainly over her own styrofoam container. He could easily reach out and skim his hand over her ridiculously tempting posterior. He could pull her onto his lap, let her feel how hard she had already gotten him. He could whisper in her ear all the filthy things he had been thinking about just this morning and feel her shudder against him. He could slide his hand up her thigh and feel the heat of her sex on his palm. And she wouldn’t run away. She wanted it. Wanted his touch…. might even beg him for more...

The hand not holding his cane gripped his thigh tightly. Goddammit why had he not anticipated this last night? This was the first time they had ever been alone without Bae asleep in the next room. Belle had dropped hints about helping out at the pawn shop before but she had never been so bold as to ask outright. He had been so addled and unprepared...

And now he was stuck between a chair and an increasing hard… place. But he still couldn’t let himself give in to those baser urges. Because if he was allowed even a taste, he would want all of her. Every sigh, every smile. He would want to gather up all her tomorrows and polish them like jewels displayed in one of his shop cases. And that was no life for an intelligent, beautiful young girl. Belle’s future lay before her like a smorgasbord of promise. He would be a nasty, greedy beast indeed to rob her of it.

Not to mention the very thought of how lost he could get in those eyes, deep and blue, the ocean in a storm. They could swallow him up in an instant and he wouldn’t even put up a struggle. Then, when she inevitably left, he would be shipwrecked once more, only this time broken beyond repair.

Belle, completely unaware of the struggle going on behind Randall’s wide, dark eyes, picked idly at her french fries. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected, but it wasn’t this dull silence that had descended almost the moment Randall sat down to eat. After giving him ample opportunity to ogle her carefully chosen outfit, he had chosen instead to pick at his food. Besides a slight widening of the eyes when he took her in, there had been no indication that he even noticed anything different.

Miserably, Belle squirted a ketchup packet into the lid of her container. She dipped a fry in it and chewed petulantly. Either Ruby had been wrong and this was not an outfit “made to get fucked in” or…

Or, Randall just wasn’t interested.


	5. Chapter 5

Belle grew uncharacteristically quiet as they ate. Randall stole furtive glances at her, willing his eyes away from that devilishly tempting neckline. Her expression had become pensive, bordering on sullen. He felt as though he had disappointed her. He hated feeling that way.

But what else could he do?

“I thought you might like to sort through the latest shipment from Sotheby’s,” he began, nonchalantly. As though there was no pulsing heat of sexual tension pervading the room. As though he had not been trying to rid himself of a throbbing erection for the last several minutes, through sheer force of will. “There is some remarkable jewelry that may need some polishing. Maybe some necklaces to be untangled….”

Belle nodded, still not looking up from her fries. She had, after all, asked to help out. And clearly that was all she was here to do. She tried not to feel so glum. At least he hadn’t told her off for wearing such an inappropriate outfit to help keep shop. He wasn’t stupid. And he knew she wasn’t either. He’d have to know she had other plans in mind. So, this was probably his way of letting her down gently. He was allowing her to keep some dignity intact – even if just walking properly in this skirt and these heels made that a bit of a challenge. Belle sighed inwardly and took another grumpy bite of her burger. 

Well, that had gone over like a lead balloon. Randall swallowed and tried again. “I also just got a shipment of books in.”

Belle’s ears perked up and for the first time since they began eating, she turned to look at Randall. “I do love books… but then again, you knew that.” A shy smile tugged at her lips, remembering her Christmas present. He may not want her the way she wanted him, but there was no denying that Randall Gold at least seemed to care about her. Byron had never been a particular favorite until Randall gave her that copy as a present. Now she skimmed through it several times per week, despite having practically memorized the contents.

That little sparkle was working its way back into her eyes and Randall felt a wave of relief. “Indeed. And I need someone with careful hands and a good eye. Most are rare first editions, but I wouldn’t put it past the seller to try and slip in a few that were not as… pristine. Would you mind looking through them and assessing for quality? I don’t have an immediate buyer, so you can take as long as you like.”

It was mostly the truth. He bought infrequently from Mr. J. Farr because the man had a shady reputation. This last deal had just been too good to pass up. He had inspected the books, in person, and was relatively certain everything in the crate was the genuine article. Yet the way Belle’s eyes lit up at the prospect of reading her way through a crate of first editions made the half-lie feel wholly worthwhile.

Plus, it would keep her occupied and safely out of his line of sight. She was far, far too distracting for him to get through the rest of the day without at least begging off for a furious wank in the broom cupboard (or something equally embarrassing).

“Happy to help,” Belle asserted, genuine warmth emanating from the simple words. 

Somewhat mollified, Randall polished off his hamburger quickly. It didn’t taste nearly as dreadful as it looked. In fact, it was a quite decent lunch, all told.

He would never have said as much to Granny, of course. Better to keep that old battleax at arm’s length. She had hated him for years, ever since he’d insisted on charging the full rent for both her buildings (Diner and Inn) rather than the previous owner’s discounted agreement. What Granny didn’t know was that Gold had been able to acquire the property because the previous owner (a soft-hearted man named Cole) had offered so many such discounts, he had driven himself to near bankruptcy.

Gold had actually acquired several properties from  Cole allowing the poor man to narrowly escape declaring actual Bankruptcy and all the ensuing complications. Storybrooke seemed to have forgotten that there was a time Randall Gold had practically saved them all from financial devastation. Yes, he paid full market value for under deserving properties. Yes, he had allowed several citizens to unload useless assets and then flipped them, himself, for a profit. Yes, he had been personally involved in a complete revamp of the town’s budget that allowed them to settle comfortably back into a mostly middle class status.

Unfortunately, his precisely worded deals and uncompromising nature overshadowed what good he had managed to do, there. Admittedly, it didn’t help that his social skills mostly extended to sarcasm and clever word play. He had learned very early on in life that people will take advantage of those who show weakness. When he began to rise in the world, he made sure to bare his teeth – keep the predators at bay.

The first few years, it had been nearly painful to see his reputation torn to shreds by a few spiteful malcontents who didn’t adhere to deals. Eventually, he had gotten over it and began to embrace the vicious nature they had come to expect. They wanted a monster, a common enemy. Gold owned more than half the town, by the time he began to really live up to his reputation. For years, only Bae saw the softer side of the Storybrooke Beast.

And then along came Belle.

Randall had never known anyone in Storybrooke who didn’t immediately shy away from him. Belle was… different. A funny girl, the residents called her. She was inquisitive and bright but very solitary, it seemed. She was often seen walking alone, nose buried in a book. At 11, she had petitioned the town to reopen the library. Unfortunately, her plan to finance it via donations was not popular enough to make it past an article in the Storybrooke Times (that had bordered on condescending, now that he thought about it).

Belle had brought something to his life that Randall could never have anticipated. She made him _want_ something, again. Besides the money and power he used as a shield, Randall hadn’t wanted anything but Bae’s happiness since the day the boy was born. Belle made him feel selfish and needy. Yes, she made Bae happy – that was a decided plus. But when he thought of Belle, it felt as though the outside world could fall away, just for a moment, and he could just be the man he’d once set out to be. All the bitterness, all the ruthless trading and deal-making had warped his heart, changed him into a dark creature he barely recognized, at times.

Belle was the light in that darkness. But he feared, even now, that trying to hold her close would only extinguish the flame.

An imaginary fist clenched around his heart as he closed the curtain to the back room. They had cleaned up from lunch and Belle had just settled in with a copy of _Jane Eyre_. He had given her a magnifying glass to look for hairline tears, but it was mostly for show. He had every intention of simply leaving her there to read until he closed the shop for the day.

As Belle poured over a personal favorite, she did try to focus on looking for smudges in the ink or little imperfections. Mostly, however, her mind was drawn back to the story. Before long, she was picturing herself as earnest  little Jane and Randall as the brooding Mr. Rochester. It was a far better fit than even she had anticipated. When she got to the proposal scene, her heart gave a monstrous flip within her chest. Before she knew it, she was weeping freely, pushing the beloved book to the side, so as not to shed tears on its antique pages.

Randall had been out front all day, tending to things that really needed no tending. Just as he was considering closing early, he heard a sniffle from behind the curtain. Then another. Something that sounded very like a muffled sob soon followed.

Concerned, Randall threw caution to the wind and darted into the back room.

Hunched over on the small cot, Belle was sobbing as though her heart would break. All sense of propriety or self-preservation flew out of the window as Randall rushed to her side. He lowered himself to his knees (with some difficulty, though he tried not to let it show).

“Belle, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

She only shook her head and buried her face in both hands. “Oh God, I didn’t think you’d hear me.” She hiccupped and it turned into another sob.

Instinctually, he reached for her. He wanted desperately to pull her into his embrace but settled for rubbing his hands up and down her forearms.

 “Hey, hey now. You don’t have to tell me what happened, but at least tell me what I can do to help, yeah?” He kept his voice low and gentle.

Still not looking up, Belle shook her head. “I don’t think that’s possible, Ra- Mr. Gold.” She gave a long, shuddering sigh and dropped her hands. “It’s all in my head… I know it is…” she muttered.

He leaned in. “What is, sweetheart?”

“I’m not… I’m ok,” she supplied, at length. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Yes, clearly,” he observed dryly. “Do you always burst spontaneously into tears at 3 o’clock on a Saturday?”

She gave a watery chuckle. “Only every other Saturday. I’d get dehydrated if I did it every week.” She sniffed loudly and Randall released her arms to pull out a handkerchief. She accepted it gratefully and dabbed at her face. She looked down at the white silk, embroidered with his initials. “I can’t believe anyone still uses these.”

Randall shrugged, self-conscious at the reminder of the generational gap between them. “Well, it’s handier than carrying around a box of tissues.”

Belle made a small sound of agreement, her tears drying at last. “It’s quaint, but I like it. It suits you. Just like this shop and your big pink house –“

“The house is salmon,” he corrected automatically.

“Big _salmon_ house. And your tailored suits, the way you always look so… It’s just very… _you_.” Belle concluded, the corners of her mouth beginning to turn upward. Her eyes, red-rimmed but still so mind-numbingly blue, met his at last. “I like that about you.” She whispered it, as though telling him a secret.

He swallowed hard. “You like what about me?”

She made a vague gesture with both hands. “The… the you-ness of you. This whole persona you’ve built as well as the sweet, clever man behind it. I know I shouldn’t say this, any of it. I know that you probably think I’m a silly, ridiculous little girl, but… I realized that you’re Mr. Rochester and all I want… the thing I want more than anything in the world, is to be Jane. Your Jane. And I know it’s impossible and that you probably don’t see me that way at all. I’m probably letting my big stupid mouth talk me out of the best job I’ve ever had but –“

Belle didn’t get to finish that sentence because Randall’s mouth had found hers, stealing away both words and breath in an instant.


	6. Chapter 6

Randall Gold was kissing her, hard.

His lips worked over hers with a ferocity that made her head spin. It was everything wrong and everything right all at once. Her hands were shaking.  His leg was aching fit to kill. Both hearts were thundering so loudly, it was a wonder all of Main street couldn’t hear.

Her arms flung around his neck as his wound around her waist, pulling her closer. She slid forward on the bench, legs parting around his midsection, so their upper bodies could be flush together. Her tight skirt rolled up to the very tops of her thighs, revealing those lacy-topped stockings. One of his hands buried itself in her hair (worn down and artfully tousled, per Ruby’s suggestion), the other kneaded the small of her back. She hummed her approval and traced the seam of his lips with her tongue. He granted her access immediately, nearly growling as he gripped her all the tighter. Belle clung to him, more alive than she’d ever been and terrified that this moment was only a dream.

Randall was lost to soft lips and an eager tongue sliding against his. Belle sucked and nibbled at his lower lip and he felt himself hardening again. He wanted to rub himself against her, rut like an animal, all thoughts of delicacy and finesse lost in the heady pleasure of finally feeling her in his arms.

And then the bell above the shop door gave a jingle.

They pulled apart so quickly, it was a wonder Randall did not topple backwards. Belle was a flushed, tousled (gorgeous) mess. He could hardly look any less thoroughly snogged than she (though, he was certain, distinctly less stunning in his disarray).

Belle would have disagreed completely, had she known what he was thinking. Randall’s mouth was swollen, shiny, and tinted a dusky pink from her kisses (and her lipgloss). His hair (which was – _dear God!_ – even softer than it looked) was going every which way and the apples of his cheeks were nearly as red as his maroon shirt. No man had ever looked so imminently shaggable and she cursed the customer at the door with every particle of her being. It was unusual for good-natured Belle to wish ill on anyone. But she’d make an exception for whoever had just crossed that damned threshold when she had finally gotten Randall Gold between her legs.

Randall looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights, poor thing. He’d managed to pull himself to his feet and was making a fumbling attempt to smooth out the wrinkles in his suit. Belle jumped into action, sorting out his hair and swiping at his mouth to remove the better part of the lipgloss.

Someone from the front of the store cleared their throat. Or rather, _her_ throat (for it sounded very much like a woman).

“Just a….” His voice came out in an undignified squeak. Randall cleared his throat. “Just a moment, dearie.” He looked imploringly at Belle.

She gave him a once over. “You’ll do. As long as no one is looking… um…” She eyes strayed south of his belt.

Randall’s cheeks burned even hotter. He bit back a curse and reached down to arrange his erection in, what he hoped, was a slightly less conspicuous angle.

Belle was fighting not to giggle at the sheer absurdity of the situation. None of her romance novels had prepared her for this particular reality. There were some scenes of coitus interuptus but usually set in a tragic tone. She didn’t feel very much like the tragic heroine whose love had been ripped from her arms. She felt like over-cooked spaghetti in a too-tight skirt, trying not to fall down despite her wobbly knees. She felt… silly. And frustrated. And perhaps just a little out of her depth.

Randall, on the other hand, felt like he was one wrong step away from a serious heart condition and only slightly further from the edge of madness. All his prosaic promises to himself about keeping Belle at bay had fallen to pieces in the face of her ardent confession.

And God, it had felt _good_. Knowing of her little schoolgirl crush had been one thing. It induced a potent and potentially addictive kind of lust within him. But lust he could overcome. He was an experienced man. One of principle – no matter what the rest of Storybrooke might think.

But Belle hadn’t wanted him to be her “handsome hero” after all. She wanted him to be the twisted and dark Mr. Rochester to her earnest and clear-eyed Jane. It was a far more fitting role for him to play. That still didn’t make it right to want her that way he did. Yet, at the time, it had rendered the option of spending another moment _not_ kissing her utterly unthinkable.

Randall stumbled to the front of the story with his mind in a tangle. He felt ensnared by dual desires. He wanted nothing more than to give Belle everything she could ever wish, to protect her unto the ends of the earth. To do so, would mean protecting her from himself, as well. For who could be more of a danger to his young beauty than the Beast who would swallow her whole?

“Hello handsome.”

A familiar voice stopped him in his tracks. He looked up, horrified to find his blind date from earlier that week smiling at him from across the countertop.

“Zelena,” he greeted her curtly.

She fluttered her lashes and ran one finger along the glass counter in meandering circles. “So, you do remember… I thought maybe you’d forgotten about me. Seeing as you didn’t call me back after our date.”

Randall was flabbergasted. How could she possibly think he’d call after that disaster of an evening? He blinked at her. “You can’t be serious.”

Zelena rounded the counter, stepping immediately into his personal space. Randall bristled and took a step back.

“Oh, don’t be shy now. I know we had quite a connection. You don’t have to be afraid of it…” She closed the space between them and Randall stepped to the side to evade her.

“Were you actually there, that night? Or is there just something faulty with your memory?” Randall snapped. He would never raise a hand to a woman, but the one not holding his cane was dying to slap _something_. He clenched it tightly, fingernails digging into his palm.

“Mmm, I think you’re just playing hard to get….” Zelena raised one well-tended eyebrow and glanced below his belt. He realized, in total humiliation, that the effects of his kisses with Belle had not quite abated.

His mouth worked soundlessly as he tried to find any other explanation to give her. Because _that’s not for you, it’s for my son’s 18 year old babysitter, whom I was snogging just minutes ago_ didn’t seem like the best way out.

Zelena grabbed him by the tie and stepped forward. “Hey, whatever gets you off, baby. I’m game.”

 Randall tried to move away but he was caught in a corner. Zelena was easily his height when not in heels and had a solid build. He was not without defenses but swinging his cane at an unarmed woman – no matter how psychotically aggressive her advances – was not in his wheelhouse of appropriate actions. He made a last ditch effort to push past her.

She used his own forward momentum against him, backing him easily up against the wall with one hand still clutching his tie. Before he could draw another breath, her mouth had clamped down on his. He tried to push her out but her tongue was already nearly choking him. Her hips rubbed rhythmically against his, brushing the tented fabric at his groin. His stubbornly persistent arousal betrayed him by enjoying the sensation.

He froze, uncertain how to dislodge this woman who seemed intent on tasting his tonsils. He pushed against her with his free hand and then recoiled as he realized his hand had landed directly on her breast.

And then he heard a sharp gasp.

Zelena was surprised into coming up for air and he was able to reposition his hands at her waist and push her from him.

Belle was staring at the scene before her, nearly unable to comprehend it. A moment ago, she had been so certain. She had known that Randall Gold felt something for her. But now here he was, kissing this ginger woman. Right here in the open. It made absolutely no sense to her at all.

Belle’s eyes were wide and very, very blue. Her lower lip trembled and Randall immediately longed to kiss away the tremors. He reached out to her.

“Who on earth is this, Randy?” Zelena exclaimed, trying to pull him back toward her.

Belle tried not to make a face at the awful shortening of Randall’s given name. She ignored his outstretched hand, focusing on the tall red-haired woman who looked disturbingly cozy at his side.

 “I’m Belle. I babysit Bae. I was just doing some extra work for Mr. Gold with a crate of antique books. But I’m done now. And I just… I was just leaving.”

 “I’ll drive you!” Randall gasped, shoving away Zelena, who had already began to run her hands possessively up and down his arm and shoulder.

“No.” Belle said, a little too loudly.. “No, you look like you have your hands full, here. I can walk. Good night, Mr. Gold.” Whatever was happening, she wanted no part of it. She needed to put some distance between herself and this scene right away

As she practically ran for the door, she could hear the woman’s posh voice behind her.

“Rather rude little thing, isn’t she? Hope she’s not teaching Bae those manners.”

Randall turned to Zelena, seething. He grabbed her arm as hard as he could and pushed her toward the door. “Get. The Fuck. Out.”

Zelena’s mouth fell open to reply and he silenced her with a dark, fulminating glare.

“Now.” He grit out the word, sheer fury straining to burst from the single syllable.

Visibly cowed, Zelena fled. As soon as he could see she was halfway down the block in the opposite direction, Randall flipped the sign to Closed and left the store in pursuit of Belle.


	7. Chapter 7

Belle was walking to her father’s shop as fast as her legs, hindered by the pencil skirt, could carry her. Tears blurred her vision, though whether from shock or fury, she could not tell.

Randall had finally kissed her and she had never been so elated in her life. She had only been kissed a few times in her life, so there wasn’t much by way of comparison. But it had felt the way she imagined soldiers coming home from war kissed their sweethearts. It had felt like an outpouring of everything that had never been spoken aloud, but that she had always secretly hoped he felt. She had been completely convinced that that kiss was the promise of something – a beginning to a new chapter in both of their lives.

After all, it had been her heartfelt confession that brought it on. The revelation that she loved him as surely as Jane had loved Mr. Rochester. Surely he had understood that? Her meaning could not possibly have been misconstrued.

Unless it had.

Unless Randall had only been swept up by the passion of the moment. He hardly seemed the type to give in to a sudden romantic fancy, but how well did she really know him? The Randall Gold she had built up in her head may not be the man she had pulled so eagerly between her thighs just moments ago.

Perhaps he had only meant to console her and relented when she pushed for more. Had she pressed him to open his mouth for her? Had he been pulling away from her when she shifted to fit his body to hers? It hadn’t felt like it at the time, but everything was such a blur in her memory. She had been so overwhelmed by feeling him at last that it was all just a whirl of sensation and the taste of hope.

She didn’t believe for a moment that the tall woman was anyone significant to him. Belle was far too immersed in the Gold family not to notice if Randall had taken a… a partner (the word “girlfriend” just seemed trite and cliché for a man of his years). But a lover?

For all Belle knew, Randall could have dozens of those stashed around Storybrooke. He could have closed the shop every night at 4 and spent the remaining time making love on every surface of the back room.

Belle made a noise of disgust. Ok, so perhaps her imagination was taking this to the point of absurdity. In the entire time she had known him, she’d seen Randall go on exactly one date. Where on earth would he even meet the brazen, ungodly flexible vixens she was currently picturing (to her own great mental disturbance)? Theirs was far too small a town for that kind of carnal cavorting without someone taking notice.

So, it came back to this Zelena woman. Who was she? The name had a ring of familiarity to it, as though she had heard it in passing or read it in a book. The face was completely unknown. Belle had a decent memory for faces. Zelena’s was nowhere in her repertoire.

She reached the door of the shop. Father was bustling away inside. He liked to keep busy, despite the slow business most days. It was almost admirable the way that Moe French could always find something to do. Of course, that energy could likely have been put to better use drumming up more business. But Moe’s self-promotional skills were poor at best. He was a shy, retiring man who spoke very little, except to his plants.

“Hullo Dad.”

Moe looked up briefly. “You’re back early.”

“There, uh, wasn’t really that much for me to do.” And well, it wasn’t a total lie. Randall had practically had to invent a new task in order to keep her occupied. The transparency of the ruse growing more and more apparent, in retrospect.

Moe nodded but said nothing else and Belle pushed through the back door to the stairs that led to their apartment. It was small but tidy. Moe slept in one room and Belle made do with what had once been a walk-in closet. She was small enough that the close space didn’t bother her much.

She slipped out of her rumpled outfit and threw the pieces on the floor. It dimly occurred to her that she had managed to leave her coat behind. That explained why she was so cold.

For some reason, that was the thought that broke her. She slumped onto her bed and buried her face in the pillow to muffle a howl of frustration and grief. Today had not gone in almost any way according to plan. She pounded both fists heavily into the mattress.

It wasn’t fair.

Randall wanted her. Of that, if nothing else, she could be absolutely certain. He wanted her as a man wants a woman, in all the ways she’d dreamed of with her hands between her thighs. But what if that was all he wanted? What if that was why he had pretended not to notice her clumsy attempts at seduction, before? Because he knew that it would never mean the same for him as it did for her?

What if she had merely pushed him beyond his ability to withstand temptation? If seeing him with one hand on Zelena’s breasts minutes after their own interrupted tryst was any indication, Randall Gold might just be a hound. No better than the groping, drooling hulks of adolescent hormones at her school.

It was a possibility she had never even considered before today. The softness of his golden brown eyes had fooled her into thinking that his heart was true. That he was the kind of man who would love deeply and spurn all others. But Randall Gold did not love her. He desired her, perhaps. She had, after all, now given him free license to do so. But he could not possibly feel for Belle the way she had recently begun to realize she felt for him.

She wished she never had to see him again. She wished she could see him right now. To slap his face. Or to let him kiss her silly, again. She contemplated catching the first plane she could find back to Australia. She cried as, in her head, she composed her farewell letters to her friends. She flipped over onto her back and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at the ceiling. Her tears dried on her cheeks and she listed all the reasons Randall Gold was not important enough to make her leave Storybrooke.

Her friends. Her father. The fact that she already knew her way around town, so she never had to worry about getting lost. Those lazy days at the pier in the summertime. The library that she still hadn’t gotten the Mayor to reopen but would someday. She had already applied for early acceptance at a nearby university and been admitted. Of every school she had tried, this one offered the best financial package.

She huffed into the darkness of her tiny room. Randall Gold wasn’t worth losing all those scholarships. He wasn’t worth dropping out of high school before she finished her degree.

Frankly, he wasn’t worth the tears she had already shed over him!

Tomorrow she would call the shop and tender her resignation.

No. If she did that, Bae would be devastated. And she loved that boy almost as though he were her own. She could never hurt him in such a way.

Alright, so she would just avoid Randall as much as possible until she graduated high school and moved into the dormitory. Bae knew she would be leaving then, anyway. It would be sad enough when it came to that. No need to break his poor little heart any sooner.

She just needed to figure out how to best avoid his father in the meantime.

Belle sighed and covered her face with both hands. That would be much easier said than done.

***

 “I have never been sorrier in my entire life, Belle. Please, let me make it up to you?” Randall was on his knees. He shuffled closer. “Please, Belle… I’ll do anything?”

Belle leaned back in her chair, the soft silk of her dress whispering with the movement. “Anything?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

Randall nodded earnestly. He looked so very distressed, bowing and scraping like a supplicant before the throne of a Queen.

Belle liked the way that image felt. “You have an awful lot of apologizing to do, you know. All this time, it could have been me. All this time, I could have been the woman in your arms, in your bed. But you made the wrong choice, every time.”

Randall bowed his head. “I did. It should have been you. It should always have been you.” He leaned closer, almost touching her knees before withdrawing his hands and linking them behind his back. He turned his face up to her again, eyes wide and beseeching. “All I ask is the chance to make it up to you.”

God, he was beautiful.

She prodded at him gently with one toe of her foot, sliding it up his thigh to the juncture of his legs. He was already hard for her. She ran her foot along the fly of his trousers, feeling the heated flesh beneath pulse. Randall made a sound like a whimper but stayed still, awaiting her permission. Liquid heat pooled at her core.

Shifting in her seat, Belle placed both feet on the ground, one on either side of him. She spread her legs wide, hitching up the shimmering skirt of her dress. She was bare beneath and Randall’s eyes were drawn like a magnet to her glistening curls. His mouth dropped open, panting with need. His gaze returned to her face, still beseeching but now tinged with a desperate hunger.

“Please?” he breathed the word, barely audible but music to her ears.

Belle stretched her arms above her head, languidly, enjoying the power she held. “Oh, alright. If you insist.”

Randall needed no further invitation. He dove eagerly into the space between her legs. His hands stroked at the sensitive skin of her inner thighs while his tongue dragged the length of her slit. Belle bit back a gasp, not ready to give him the satisfaction of knowing how well he pleased her. She saw the hint of a smile as he glanced up before returning his mouth to her lower lips.

He flicked at her clit with his tongue and teased her entrance with one finger. Belle threw her head back as the single digit slipped within her depths. All her pretense being in control seemed to fade away as Randall expertly manipulated her sex. She bucked her hips into his mouth and hands, biting her own wrist to stay quiet. She was so close. She was climbing the very edge of that precipice… just about to fall…

And her alarm blared to life.

Belle nearly toppled out of bed, cursing. It was Monday morning. She would be babysitting Bae today after school. Which meant she would see Randall again – the real Randall, not the apologetic sex-god of her dreamscape. Which was just a damn shame. Because that dream had been….

Belle sighed heavily as she went to change into a new pair of panties.


	8. Chapter 8

Randall had gone after Belle as quickly as his leg would allow. But a lame old man was no match for a teenage woman scorned. By the time he reached her father’s flower shop, she was long gone from sight. He had ended up in awkward, mostly one-sided conversation with Moe French and somehow found himself purchasing a boutonniere. 

On Sunday, she was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t in her father’s shop, at the local park, or even with the group of her friends he spotted at the diner.  He tried calling her cell phone but it went straight to voicemail. Was she avoiding him, specifically or had she just turned it off? Probably the former.

With the scene that must have lain before her, he could only imagine the conclusions Belle must be drawing..

God, he was the world’s biggest idiot. As furious as he was with Zelena’s disgusting actions, he thought that perhaps he ought to have removed her more forcibly. If he hadn’t been in such a complete (lovestruck?) daze moments before… If he hadn’t hesitated in showing his truly beastly nature, knowing Belle was still nearby… He didn’t care in the slightest if Zelena saw him for the nasty, menacing creature he knew he could be. Of course, that might only increase her regard.

And what the bloody hell was he going to do about that woman? She had attacked him in his own shop! He ought to have dragged her by her hair to the Sheriff’s station. Randall knew that he had not provoked such a response – and that even if he had, Zelena’s actions amounted to no less than assault.

But who would believe him? The sheriff and deputy were modern thinking enough, if anyone was in their backwoods town, but he still could not see them painting a picture that found him innocent. At best, the town would say he ought to consider himself lucky an attractive woman desired him at all. At worst, Zelena might get her sister, the mayor, involved and wreak havoc with what little reputation he had left.

He could only hope against hope that at least Belle knew him well enough by now to believe his side of the story over her own eyes.

The whole thing left him furious. He took an extra-long, extra hot shower both nights. This time, he found that his mind could not turn to the thought of Belle keeping him company in the heated spray. When he thought of her (and he did so constantly) his heart gave a painful thump in his chest and his stomach felt tight.

By Monday morning, he was feeling vaguely ill. He had slept poorly and started his day by snarling at Bae’s gentle inquiry about cereal. Before he could gather his wits to apologize, the school bus had arrived and Bae was bounding out the front door. But that flicker of hurt in his son’s large, dark eyes would continue to weigh on him. One more straw on the proverbial camel’s far over-burdened back.

Business at the pawn shop was a steady trickle which allowed him the freedom to work on a few repairs. This also, unfortunately, meant extra time for his mind to wander. To avoid ruminating too freely, he left on the small radio he kept at the back of the store. A song he remembered from childhood was on full blast and he barely heard the bell above the door.

“Gold!”

He’d know that voice anywhere. He glared in the direction of the front of the store. “There in a minute, dearie.” He made his way, slowly, to the counter.

The Mayor, Regina Mills, was tapping her nails impatiently against the glass. “You really ought to hire a shopkeeper if you’re always going to be hiding away back there. Anyone could walk in and steal…” she glanced around, “well, I’m sure there’s something of value hidden in this junk.”

Randall’s upper lip curled. “While I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your concern, perhaps you can save us both some time and just get to the reason for this little visit.” There was no love lost between himself and Mayor Mills, though they had been enemies so long, they were very nearly friends. At times, he almost liked the woman. Seeing as she was the one who had saddled him with her half-sister in the first place, today was _not_ one of those times.

Regina blinked indignantly at his curt tone. “Well, someone limped away from the wrong side of the bed, today.”

Randall sighed heavily. “If you only stopped by to waste my time, I assure you – job well done.”

Regina’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “My sister.”

Randall’s throat felt tight. “What of her?”

“What did you say to her the other night?”

A chill ran down his spine. “I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours.”

“Believe me, I don’t want it to be. She’s been talking about you for a fucking week. God knows why, but apparently she likes you.” Regina rolled her eyes, leaning one hip casually against the counter.

“The feeling is decidedly not mutual.”

“Good.” Regina examined her nails. “Because I want her out of my hair as soon as humanly possible. You’ve helped, already. She came back Saturday in tears, called you a beast - and a few other choice words. But now she won’t leave the guest bedroom. I need you to finish the job.”

Randall’s eyes narrowed as took in Regina’s tone. Something didn’t fit. This was far from sisterly concern – quite the opposite, in fact. Why had she set them up in the first place if…

_That sneaky little bitch…_

“Is that why you set us up? In hopes it would scare her out of Storybrooke?” He asked, incredulous that Regina would stoop so low.

Regina shrugged. “I set you up because she saw you at the Town Hall meeting and wouldn’t stop asking me about you. The fact that you might be just enough  of an asshole to send her packing was an added bonus.”

Randall wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Mayor Mills, a woman who had once been his protégé, had actually managed to get one over on him. For that, he would absolutely find a way to make her pay. For now, they had to deal with the fact that her little plan seemed to have blown up spectacularly in both of their faces.

He gave a derisive laugh. “Your esteem for me is so superbly flattering. Please, remind me to repay the compliment, some time.”

“Oh stop, we both know you don’t exactly make for a pleasant dinner companion at the best of times. And Zelena could make Ghandi throw a temper tantrum.” At the increasingly dark expression on Randall’s face, Regina changed tactics. She dropped her usual tone of smug superiority and inclined her head. “Look, it was getting dire, okay? She’s been messing around in my personal affairs…”

“So you thought you’d send her after mine, instead?” he interrupted. “How kind.”

“You practically own this town, Gold. Surely, you of all people, can handle one woman with a… flare for the dramatic.” Regina made a dismissive gesture with one hand.

“Mayor Mills, I will have nothing more to do with your sister. In fact, if she comes near my person, my son, my shop, or anything I hold dear, again, I will hold you personally accountable. I may not have the sheriff on my side. But I think you know perfectly well that I’m the only one around here who really knows where all the bodies are buried.” He leaned across the counter, his voice dropping, low and dangerous. “Are we clear, or do I take up my proverbial shovel?”

Regina paled and leaned away. There were secrets in the Mills family, of that Randall was well aware. He may be bluffing slightly on the details, but he knew where to look if scare tactics weren’t enough. Regina was not so careful as her mother had been. And Randall had known her mother very, very well. If pressed, he could find a skeleton or two to pull from her closet.

“Fine. I’ll deal with her. With any luck, I can get her on a plane by the end of the week.” Regina brushed imaginary lint from her impeccable jacket.

“See that you do.” Randall straightened, allowing his face to go neutral. “We’re finished here, Ms. Mills. You can show yourself out.” Without watching to ensure her compliance, Randall turned and walked steadily back to the storage room. A minute later, he heard his shop door slam. Only then did he allow himself to sag into the chair behind his desk.

That fucking woman.

He glanced at the clock. School had just let out. Belle had had an entire weekend to stew on the awful things she must be thinking, but she hadn’t quit as Bae’s sitter. So, that had to be a good sign. She would be at his house, already. If he left in the next ten minutes, he could get home just as Bae would usually be finishing homework. He could prepare them all a nice dinner, invite Belle to stay. Bae would insist and Belle would acquiesce. They were both a little overly indulgent with the lad, though Randall did try to enforce discipline when necessary. Belle had done wonders for that, as well. Bae had never been exactly spoiled but she had a way of gently encouraging good behavior over bad. She had even implemented a homework chart to help them along on days she was not around. Star stickers were added up at the end of the month for a special treat.

It was not lost on him that Belle seemed to bring out the best in both of the Gold men.

_With a love like that, you know you should be glad…_ the radio intoned, merrily.

He stared at it. The line repeated and he made up his mind. He would find a way to explain, a way to win back the trust she had begun to place in him. If nothing else, he still needed Belle to be a part of his life. She was simply too important to him to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be face to face interaction with Gold and Belle in the next chap. This just needed some resolution, first.


	9. Chapter 9

Belle and Bae were doing homework at the kitchen table when Randall came home. Belle looked up as he entered the room but quickly looked back down at her schoolbook. Bae, happy for the distraction, leapt from his chair and embraced his father.

“You’re home early!”

Randall hugged his boy. “That I am. I, uh, had a hankering for chicken parmigiana. How does that sound for dinner, eh?”

Bae nodded enthusiastically, bouncing on his toes. “Oh cool. I could eat a whole chicken by myself. Belle said that’s ‘cause I’m having another growth spurt. She says I’m gonna be taller than you, soon. Whaddaya think, Papa?”

The skinny, dark haired boy’s head came almost to Randall’s chest, already. Randall ruffled Bae’s curls. “I think she may be right.” He turned his attention to Belle, who had not read a word on the page in front of her since she heard the door open. “Hey, Belle.”

Every part of her body felt tense. Thinking about seeing Randall again was very, very different from actually _seeing_ Randall again. He looked so happy, hugging his son, and she wanted to feel that kind of warmth again. It had once felt like the most natural thing in the world for them to exchange easy conversation at the end of the day. The hardest part back then was packing up her books to leave when all she wanted to stay in the Golds’ Pink house and be part of their little family. She realized she had waited too long to respond and that both Golds were looking at her expectantly.

“Um, hey Mr. Gold. I guess I ought to go off home, since you’re here…” She hurriedly closed her notebook and began haphazardly shoving books into her backpack.

Randall’s heart leapt into his throat. “Stay!” It came out a little too loudly and a little too high pitched. Both Belle and Bae looked at him, oddly. He cleared his throat. “Belle, you’re welcome to stay for dinner.” He looked down at his son. “Bae, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course!” Bae loped back over to the table and grabbed Belle’s backpack. “Come on, we can finish up homework in the living room and then watch some more Star Trek!”

Belle opened her mouth to protest but Bae was half out of the door with her backpack in tow. She stood slowly and crossed the room to follow. Randall stepped into her path, placing a hand lightly on her arm.

“Belle… could I have just a moment?”

Belle blinked at him. “I, uh, I think we’ve had our moment, Mr. Gold. I don’t see a good reason to give you another one.” The moment the words escaped, she regretted them. She had not expected to still feel so angry after having decided he wasn’t worth it.

Randall looked like she had slapped him across the face. His mouth fell open and his jaw worked, soundlessly. “I’m… very sorry you feel that way,” he managed at last.

Belle’s eyes softened as she took in his distress. He had never been so harsh with her and by all accounts he very well could have been. She looked down. “Sorry. That was… uncalled for. I just wish you’d told me.”

Randall’s brow furrowed. “Told you what?”

Belle exhaled, shifting uncomfortably in her high-heeled mary-janes. “That you had a… a thing going on with someone. I’d have backed off.”

Randall shook his head vehemently. “No! For fu- uh, heaven’s sake, a million times, no! I went on one date with the woman and she thought…” He shuddered involuntarily. “I am not seeing her. There is no _thing_. With her. Only you.” _Always you_ , he added silently. It had been so long since he wanted anyone in his life besides Bae. But since she had wound her way around his heart, Belle was as essential to him as that same organ.

Belle looked simultaneously skeptical and concerned. “It’s kind of hard for me to believe when you were definitely kissing her and grabbing... her.”

Randall dropped his face into both hands. “She kissed me. I was only trying to push her away. I swear.”

“By way of copping a feel?”

He winced. “She’s very tall and it was just… there.” He met and held her gaze, pleading with his eyes. “Belle, Saturday was shaping up to be one of the best days I have ever had and then it ended in utter humiliation. I want nothing to do with Zelena and I have made that clear to her. But the worst of it was knowing that you thought I had… betrayed you… or…”

“Or that you didn’t really want _me_ ,” Belle admitted in a small voice, still too scared to hope. She wanted so badly to believe him but the story just sounded too absurd to be true.

Randall inhaled sharply. “Belle… I’d have to be the world’s greatest fool not to want you….”

Belle’s lower lip trembled and she bit it to keep it still. “How can I know you mean that?”

“I’ll prove it. Any way you like, sweetheart. You name it.” He took both of her hands in his. “Let me make it up to you?”

The words of her dream echoed in her reality and Belle felt her stomach clench. Heat pooled at her core, insistent and needy. “Randall,” she breathed his name, leaning in close. Her eyes half closed as he bent toward her. She could feel his breath on her lips.

“Belle, I need help with my book report!” came a cry from the living room.

Belle and Randall jumped apart, both blushing deeply.

“What’s the magic word, kiddo?” Belle called back.

“Please?” Bae shouted, drawing out each vowel sound.

“Okay, be right there.”

 Belle and Randall both grinned sheepishly at one another. “I should, um, go do that.”

“I’ll, erm, get started on dinner.” Randall pointed needlessly to the stove.

“Yeah, good. Dinner sounds, um, good. I’ve love to. Stay. Tonight, that is.” Belle stammered then blushed as they both realized the implication of what she’d just said. “For dinner,” she added.

Randall’s free hand fluttered at his side. “Great. Yes. Good. Dinner.”

They stared at one another a moment longer until Bae yelled, “How do you spell pronunciation?”

Belle hustled off to the living room and Randall turned to the task of dinner with his heart beating staccato in his chest.

***

Dinner was a simple but pleasant affair. As promised, Bae did his best to polish off nearly an entire chicken. As a result he dozed off halfway through the movie they had put on afterward. Randall took the sleepy boy to bed, but he insisted on being tucked in by both of them. Belle read them both a story and Randall sat, spellbound by her lilting voice. Bae was out like a light within minutes, but Belle read on a little further, nervous about finally being alone with Randall.

She had chosen to believe him about this Zelena woman. Randall had never lied to her before. And it really would be difficult to hide something like that in a town as small as Storybrooke. But if he was, in fact, available and he did want her… it made everything so much more real.

Their first kiss had been perfect, better than anything she had ever imagined. Randall certainly seemed to have enjoyed himself, as well. But could she keep that up? Could they really do this? Could _she_ really do this? She was so very inexperienced… what if she wasn’t any good?

Meanwhile, Randall felt he might have been perfectly content to sit at the foot of Bae’s bed and listen to his darling Belle read fairy tales for the rest of their natural lives. This was exactly where they belonged. If it made him a wicked beast to steal her beauty away from the rest of the world, if only for as long as she would stay, then... well, he couldn’t be arsed to care about the rest of the world. The only thing that mattered in Randall’s world were the two people in the room with him.

At length, she reached the end of the tale, trailing off to a whisper as she closed the book. She looked up and met Randall’s gaze, blushing anew at its intensity.

Yes, she could do this. With him looking at her like that, she felt like she could do anything.

They made their way back toward the living room. At the bottom of the stairs, Belle shyly tucked her hand into Randall’s, pulling him away from the living room and toward the back of the house. Toward his bedroom.

Randall looked at her in wordless surprise.

“Before dinner, I told my dad I was sleeping over at Ruby’s tonight. If you… want me to go, I can go stay with her. But… I’d rather stay here. Tonight.” Belle kept her voice low, squeezing Randall’s hand and moving in close.

His eyes went wide and round, his breath catching. “Belle, I don’t… expect anything of you. Just because of what happened between us… I’m perfectly happy with just this. Just you and me and Bae, as we’ve always been. You don’t need to…”

“I want to, Randall. Don’t you want me?” Her eyes searched his, so full of yearning and affection, he was nearly overwhelmed.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he breathed, the urge to kiss her now an achingly tangible thing.

“Then take me to bed, Randall.” She brushed her lips to his.

He melted instantly into her, dropping their joined hands to pull her to him. Her hands went to his hair, brushing it out of their faces and running her fingers through it. He tilted his head to gain better access to her mouth, slipping his tongue between her lips and caressing hers with it.

At length, she pulled back, cheeks pink, eyes shining. “Come on.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and they made their way toward his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three guesses what happens next ;-)


	10. Chapter 10

Once in the room, Belle and Randall turned to face one another. They had both been dreaming of this moment for so long, it hardly felt real.

 “Belle, are you – “

“If you have to ask if I’m sure at this point – “ Belle started impatiently.

“on birth control.” Randall finished lamely.

Belle flushed. “Oh.” A practical question. She hadn’t thought about that. “Yeah. It, um, helps my skin. Plus I have condoms in my purse.”

“Should have known my girl would be well prepared.” His voice was low, the husky tones sending a shiver through her.

 “Your girl… I like that,” she murmured.

Randall cupped Belle’s face, his thumb running over her lower lip. “Do you?”

“Yes. Very much.” Her tongue darted out to flick at his thumb and he made a soft, needy sound.

He closed the space between them, his mouth crashing down on hers. She heard his cane thud onto the carpet as both arms wrapped around her. Belle rolled her hips against his. She was pleasantly surprised to find him already noticeably excited. One of his hands skimmed down her back to firmly grasp her ass. He ground his hips against hers and she gasped against his lips.

He pulled away just enough for them to take a few deep breaths. “We have to be quiet.”

She nodded. “I know. I’m… not very noisy.”

He arched one eyebrow at her. “I think you underestimate yourself, there, sweetheart.”

Belle blinked at him in confusion until his eyes darted to his bed and then back to her. Her knees went weak and she could have collapsed in his arms. “Oh my God. You heard me? That night?”

 “Oh yes.”

Belle wanted to cover her face, arousal slightly dampened by sheer embarrassment. “I am so, so sorry. It was…. I was just… impulsive… and…” her head fell forward to hit his shoulder.

 “Belle…. Look at me, please.”

She lifted her head slowly, chewing her bottom lip as she met his gaze.

“What I saw that night was one of the most incredibly beautiful and exceptionally erotic things I have ever seen. There isn’t a night that has gone by since then that I haven’t thought about you. On my bed, writhing in ecstasy, moaning my name. My only regret has been that I was not the one providing that pleasure.” Randall gave her the filthiest grin she had ever seen grace his face. “And I fully intend to correct that oversight, tonight.”

Belle’s mouth went dry, her blood pounding in her ears. She stared at him, helpless with longing.

“Is that what you want, too?”

She nodded, not sure if she could trust her voice.

“Good. May I undress you?”

She nodded again.

Randall reached down to the hem of her dress and pulled it slowly up the length of her body. The soft fabric whispered across her skin, turning it to gooseflesh as it was exposed. For just a second, Belle fought the urge to cover herself with her arms. But the look of awe on Randall’s face banished any lingering self-doubt. Instead, she reached behind herself and unhooked her bra. It fell away. Her nipples, already puckered with desire, tightened further against the cool air.

“God… sweetheart…” Randall’s throat worked. He tentatively touched her taut stomach, smoothing his hands over her ribs. His fingertips brushed the undersides of her breasts and she bit back a giggle. He noticed her reaction and increased the pressure of his fingers as they travelled upward. He cupped her breasts, enjoying the slight heft of them, the perk of her nipples against his palms.

Randall’s mouth found Belle’s again, with gentle, sipping kisses. He trailed kisses down her jaw, nipping at one earlobe and nuzzling his way down her neck. Belle hummed her approval as Randall tasted her collarbones, first one then the other. He bent forward to capture one rosy nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around it then suckling. The other he caught between two fingers, rolling it as Belle arched toward him, her head falling back.

He lavished her breasts with lips and tongue, Belle making delightful little whimpering noises. One of her hands began to work at the buttons of his shirt.

He had taken off his jacket and tie before making dinner. Belle’s nimble fingers made short work of his buttons. Reluctantly, he removed himself  from her long enough to discard his shirt. At her urging, his undershirt followed. He felt exposed, but Belle’s eyes lingered appreciatively on his slender form.

“I’ve dreamt of this so many times…” she murmured, planting an openmouthed kiss at the hollow of his throat. He felt her hands at his belt and then she was sinking to her knees and pulling down his trousers. His cock jutted obscenely against the fabric of his underwear. Belle breathed hotly against it, mouthing it through the cotton. He groaned involuntarily, carding one hand through her dark hair and urging her to stand back up. He was already so achingly hard, he might not withstand the teasing of her sweet mouth.

“My darling girl…” He framed her face with both hands and kissed her. Together, they moved to the bed, stretching out beside one another. Belle rolled onto her back, legs falling open in invitation. Propping himself on one elbow, he smoothed one hand down the length of her body, to the apex of her thighs. He slid beneath her knickers, through the curls, cupping her sex. He could feel her, soaking wet against his hand. Belle juddered her hips, seeking friction. Without any resistance, his middle finger sank into her core.

“Yes, Randall…” Belle hissed, shunting her hips for more contact.

He gathered the moisture, bringing it up to her little fleshy nub and rubbing in slow circles. Belle gasped, her hands fisting in the blankets.

Randall leaned close, to whisper in her ear. “Just like this, Belle. I pictured you over and over. Coming on my bed, but with my hands on you. My mouth tasting your sweetness.”

Belle’s hips bucked into his hand. “Please…”

“Please what, my darling?”

“Want you…” Belle stilled his ministrations, her eyes flying open. “I want to come with you inside me.”

“Fuck!” Randall nearly lost himself in that admission. It was only through years of self-control that he was able to keep himself intact.  He scrambled out of his underwear and Belle did the same.

Belle lay back down, eagerly pulling Randall between her thighs. This was what she had been dreaming about. Well, among other things. They would get to those later. For now, she needed him to fuck her more than she needed to breathe.

With one hand, he aligned himself with her entrance, pushing in slowly. Once he was fully sheathed, he stilled, giving them both time to adjust. She was blazing hot, slick and tight around him and he turned his thoughts to contract law to keep from exploding instantly.  She made an impatient sound and he began to move at an easy pace. Up and up and up that peak they climbed together. He could feel her walls start to flutter around him and he shifted a hand between them to tease her clit. Belle stifled her moans against his shoulder as he thrust faster. Randall felt Belle’s legs shaking as her inner muscles clenched his cock, milking him. He came hard, burying his face in her hair.

*** 

Randall’s alarm sounded and his eyes flew open in the grey morning light. He became instantly aware of two things: One - that Belle was very naked, her body wrapped deliciously around his under tangled blankets. Two - that his son would be awake quite soon and excusing Belle’s presence to  an inquisitive 10 year old (no matter how sleepy) could prove next to impossible. Not ready to dislodge her quite yet, Randall shifted in Belle’s embrace to hit the snooze button. She mumbled sleepily into his neck.

Mornings were not when he did his best thinking. And he had gotten very little sleep – they had woken one another up sometime after midnight to make love once more. 

He had no regrets on that account but right now, he very much needed tea. But he didn’t really have time to make breakfast before he had to sneak his teenage lover out of the house. He squeezed his eyes shut. Oh, what on earth had he been thinking?

He was almost completely certain that he was head over heels in love with Belle. He had allowed himself this fantasy back when it seemed impossible.  But now that she was actually here, in his arms, in his bed… What would he do when she inevitably decided to leave? Everyone always left Randall Gold. Belle, for all her bright smiles and romantic notions, would be no different. She had a whole life to think of. College in the Fall and a future career. What if she would want children?

Randall was already in his 40’s… he couldn’t imagine starting over with a baby. And yet… if it were Belle’s baby. A little bit of him and hopefully an awful lot of her…

Luckily his alarm sounded again, knocking that ridiculous notion out of his head. Belle’s arms tightened around him as he moved to turn it off.

“We have to get up, Love,” he murmured into her hair, stroking her back with one hand.

She shook her head and burrowed further against him. “No. Won’t.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Well, if you can find a good way to explain that to Bae, be my guest.”

Belle peered up at him through tumbling curls. “He wouldn’t mind, you know. He, um, he’s told me before that he wishes I’d move in here. We could just say we had a sleepover…”

“Belle!” Randall interrupted sharply. “Bae may not _mind_ , but he’s not completely ignorant. He's old enough to know what  a 'sleepover' means. What if word got out to the rest of the town? What about your father? We can’t ask a child to keep a secret like that.”

Belle shifted up so her head was propped on one elbow and looked at him curiously. “Why does it have to be a secret?”

God, she looked so perfect in the pale morning light. Her blue eyes shining, her hair a tangled mess. He wanted very badly to kiss her, to roll her onto her back and make them both very late for their respective obligations. But there would be a hungry boy in the kitchen in a little under an hour and they needed to deal with this, before that happened.

“Sweetheart…” he shook his head. “I’m over twice your age and the town monster, to boot. I don’t think there’s a single Storybrooke resident who wouldn’t happily take up a torch and pitchfork if they found out I’d spent the night… defiling an innocent girl.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “I was not that innocent to begin with. And as for defiling…” she pressed her hips to his. His cock (already half-hard from their proximity) gave a very interested twitch. “I’m over the age of consent - ”

“Barely,” he interjected, dryly.

She ignored him. “And I said yes.” She leaned in to nibble his earlobe. “More than once, as I recall.”

He was fully hard against her thigh and Belle thrilled with how easily she could excite him. Randall Gold, with all his walls and quips and deals. He kept everyone at arm’s length except Bae. And now her. Randall was her lover and Belle didn’t care who knew it. In fact, she was giddy with the knowledge. He was finally as much hers as she had been his for months.

“Belle…” he whimpered, as her tongue traced the shell of his ear. “Please… stop.”

Disappointed, she drew back. “Sorry. I just… I finally get to do things like that and it’s hard not to.”

 _Hard_ did not begin to cover it. Randall rolled away so he could sit up. His cock was straining toward his bellybutton. He ran both hands over his face. “Believe me, it’s not that I don’t want you to. But… this is important.”

Belle was silent for a moment and Randall glanced over his shoulder at her. She was staring dejectedly at the foot board. She seemed to notice his eyes on her and looked up.

“No, I get it. I do. We should get dressed.” She offered a wan smile and rolled out of the bed.

Randall used the headboard to help himself stand, his injured leg sending him signals that he had definitely overdone things the night before. By the time he had limped to his dresser, Belle had collected her various pieces of clothing from where they were strewn on the floor. They dressed in silence.

Randall was right. The purely intellectual part of her knew it. Her father would have a fit and she could hardly see anyone else having a much kinder reaction to seeing her with the infamous Mr. Gold. Oh, but she was young and in love and what did anyone else matter, really? She sighed as she pulled on last night’s underwear. It hadn’t been designed for seduction, but Randall hadn’t seemed to mind. Still, perhaps she’d have Ruby take her shopping again.

 _Ruby._ Shit. She needed to text her best friend and make sure the alibi was solid.

Belle grabbed Randall’s cane from the floor and handed it to him. “Next time, I’ll bring a change of clothes.”

_Next time._

The words lingered in the air between them and Randall’s mouth went dry. There shouldn’t be a next time. It wouldn’t be any good for him to get used to this bliss, knowing it would only be ripped from him, come Fall (or any circumstance in which Belle came to her senses). He opened his mouth to deny the possibility of a next time but all that came out was: “Good thinking.”

Belle’s face lit up. She crossed to where he stood and straightened his tie. “See you tonight, Randall.” Since she’d left her heels in the living room, she lifted up on tip toe to brush her lips to his.

With that, she crept quietly down the hall, collected her shoes, and let herself out.

Meanwhile, Randall was still standing in his room, savoring the remembered feel of her kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt: Ruby has a part time job at Victoria Secret & Belle needs her help to find the right lingerie. Ruby asks who the lucky guy is.
> 
> Anon Ask: Babysitter!Belle: Will you have any fun with Gold on the couch as soon as Bae goes to bed?

At lunch, Ruby swung into Belle’s peripheral vision, plopping onto the bench beside her. “Hey, let’s skip last period and hit the mall.”

Belle lowered her book and blinked at her closest friend. “I don’t skip school, you know that.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Miss Nova’s out sick today and they couldn’t find a sub. It’s just gonna be study hall. Come on… we have catching up to do!”

Belle shook her head, “I want to get my homework done during study hall so I don’t have to finish it while I babysit.” The fact was that she just wanted to make sure all her work was finished by the time Randall got home. There wasn’t likely to be a repeat of the night before just yet, but a girl could hope…

Ruby twisted her mouth and turned her attention to her lunchbag. “Ok, fine. But you owe me at least a full afternoon of shopping and girl talk, Miss ‘if anyone asks, I was with you last night’ French.” She grinned, fishing out a plastic-wrapped sandwich.

“Oh please, I’ve been your alibi how many times?” Belle returned, gamely.

“Yeah, and I’ve always done something very nice for you, after. Personally, I will accept thank yous in the form of chocolate or lipgloss.” Ruby elbowed her lightly. “Besides, we have got to go celebrate you getting laid!” she crowed, biting into her unwrapped sandwich as though for emphasis.

Belle paused, milk carton halfway to her mouth, “Shh! Rubes… keep your voice down!”

Ruby giggled around a mouthful of roast beef, chewing and swallowing most of it before she spoke again. “Dude, no one cares you’ve got some secret lovahh.” She wiggled both well-plucked eyebrows.

This time the milk almost dropped completely. “Dammit, Ruby!” Belle whispered, fighting back her own fit of giggles. It just seemed so completely surreal. Sitting out behind the football field, like it was any other day. Like she hadn’t spent hours making love to the man she’d been lusting after for… frankly, an embarrassingly long time. They’d barely slept and she wasn’t even tired. Maybe a little bit giddy and definitely over the moon. Before Ruby walked up, she’d reread the same page three times, her mind continually wandering to the feel of Randall’s hands on her breasts, his taste in her mouth…

“Um, earth to Belle?” Ruby waved a hand in front of her face.

Belle snapped back to the real world once more, blushing. “Sorry. Off with the fairies.”

“Wow, this guy must really be something… is it _the_ guy? The one you’ve been trying to seduce for, like ages? It is, right? Was he amazing? You look like you had a damn good time…”

Belle’s cheeks got even hotter. “Yeah. It was the guy.” She tipped her head back with a sigh of pleasure. “And, oh god, yes. Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it…”

“So?” Ruby pressed. “Tell me everything! But, like, start with his name so I can put a face to this mysterious sex god.”

Belle pursed her lips. “You are about as subtle as a ton of bricks. I can’t tell you who he is. I promised.”

“Why not? Is he married?” Ruby finally lowered her voice, edging closer. “Oh my God, Belle… is he a teacher?”

“No and no. Just… it’s not something we’re ready go public with. That’s all.”

Ruby made a sound of frustration. “You know this is gonna drive me crazy, right?”

“At least it’s a short distance,” Belle teased.

Ruby stuck out her tongue. “When do you see him again?”

“Um…” Belle hesitated. Technically, she would be seeing him every night. But they hadn’t exactly established what counted as a romantic evening, just yet. Bae had been dropping heavy handed hints about wanting to go to a sleepover at the Shue house soon. Belle was not blind to the opportunity inherent in having the whole house to themselves. “Next week, I think. Depending on… some scheduling stuff.” Belle made a mental note to talk to Mrs. Shue about the exact date of this sleepover.

“That’s… vague. Sure this guy likes you as much as you like him?”

Belle drained her milk as she thought of the way Randall’s eyes lit up and then softened when he saw her. She thought of the gentle words exchanged in the dark of his bedroom, the reverence in his touch. She nodded, at last. “Yeah, I think so.”

“You gonna tell him how you feel and find out for sure?” Ruby polished off her sandwich.

“Oh geez, I don’t know, Rubes. It’s probably way too early for all that… But I do want to do something special for him. Really show him that he’s been on my mind.”

Ruby started peeling her banana, looking thoughtful. “Well, we could hit Vicky’s over the weekend… pick you up something heart-stopping to wear. That ought to send a signal.”

Belle nibbled her lip. “I can’t really afford the fancy stuff. I’ve only got a little put away and I’m still scrimping and saving for college next year.”

“Thought you got a full ride?”

“Yeah, but there are living expenses, books, all kinds of other stuff that costs money.” Belle shrugged, her good mood faltering for the first time all day.

“Well, then I’m your fucking fairy god-mother. ‘Cause guess who just got hired part time at the Victoria’s Secret in the mall?” Ruby puffed out her chest.

“When did that happen?”

“When Granny told me if I was gonna spend all my tip money on stupid crap, I ought to pick up another job. I was sick of taking her shit at the diner, anyway. We get along much better when she’s not my boss, too.” Ruby’s eyes flicked away and back. Belle knew her relationship with her grandmother was far more complicated than she often let on. It was an ongoing battle of wills, since Ruby was old enough to argue. The taller girl shrugged it off and smiled widely at her friend. “Anyway, so now your bff has a kickass employee discount and part of a leftover gift card that I don’t really need. Let’s get you something fancy on Saturday, what do ya’ say?”

“I can’t take your gift card…”

Ruby held up a hand, palm out. “Nope. Not hearing it. I am well stocked on lingerie, right now. Believe me. With the sale they have right now, the card will cover, like, a bra. And then you only have to spend money on the panties. We’ll make a day of it. Get smoothies, maybe manis and pedis? How long has it been since you just relaxed and had a fun day? I know you have, like a million APs and the babysitting keeps you super busy. But… I miss my friend…”

Belle threw her arms around Ruby’s shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. “Oh, honey… I miss you too! I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much. Okay. Saturday after I’m done my shift at Dad’s shop – Girl’s day. Just us and gossip and probably way too much sugar. Sound good?”

“Perf.” Ruby gave an extra squeeze and released her just as the bell rang to herald the end of the lunch period.

***

That night, with visions of all the lovely thing she would try on that weekend dancing in her head, Belle awaiting Randall’s homecoming. Bae’s homework was not much of a challenge, so he finished it quickly and with minimal fuss. As he worked, Belle made a couple of quick phone calls and returned to the living room with good news.

Randall stepped through the door just as they were going over details.

Bae ran to greet his father.  “Papa, can I go to a sleepover on Saturday?” he blurted, face still pressed to Randall’s chest.

Randall returned his son’s embrace with a chuckle, his eyes darting in Belle’s direction. He knew exactly who must have had a hand in planning this. “Where and with whom?”

Bae stepped back, rocking on his heels. “Chester and Matt Shue. Their place.”

Randall raised an eyebrow, “Goodness, doesn’t Mrs. Shue have enough on her hands with that brood?”

Bae’s smile began to droop at the edges, “She told Belle she doesn’t mind…”

Randall turned to Belle, “And I take it he’s been very good to earn such a treat. Done all his homework on time? Not given you too much fuss?”

Belle grinned, her teeth sinking slightly into her lower lip. “He’s been an angel. I think everyone deserves a really fun night, every now and then…”

Randall colored slightly and coughed, covering it badly. He nodded at Bae. “Well then, don’t forget to pack your vitamins, yeah?”

Bae gave a whoop of joy and hugged his father again before bounding from the room, shouting behind him, “I’m gonna call Matt!”

Silence fell in his absence. At length, Belle rose from the sofa and strode toward Randall, rolling her hips as she walked. “So, I guess that means you’ll have the place to yourself this weekend, huh?”

Randall licked his lips, his gaze raw and hungry. “I suppose so. Not really sure what I’ll do with all that time on my own…”

Belle pursed her lips, eyes glinting. “I may have a few suggestions.” She was barely a foot away, tantalizingly close. But she resisted the urge to reach for him, knowing Bae would be back any moment. “I’ve been thinking about you all day… It’s been very… difficult to sit still. Have you been thinking about me?”

Randall swallowed, hard. “Oh God, yes. Every second. I…” He blushed and looked away.

“What?”

“Let’s just say, I’m glad the countertops in my shop are as high as they are…”

Belle blinked at him for a moment before his meaning sunk in and it was her turn to blush. She wondered briefly if said countertops would support her weight. Now that he mentioned it, they were almost an ideal height. She felt that heat start to build in her belly, the wetness growing between her thighs. She took a breath, “I want to see you again. I dunno if I can wait for the weekend.”

“Belle… I can’t just invite you to stay for dinner again. It might look…”

He was interrupted by Bae’s lumbering gait as the boy returned and flung himself onto the sofa. “Belle, you're gonna stay for dinner, right?”

Randall’s eyes went wide and Belle had to choke back an incredulous laugh. Well, that seemed to solve that problem…

Dinner was a simple affair. Randall made a stir fry and rice, they ate on tray tables in front of the television. Between them, Bae was engrossed in the science fiction flick he’d rented from Red Box. Belle barely followed the plot, if the film could have been said to have one at all. She was too busy exchanging glances and smiles with Randall, whenever their eyes chanced to meet. As often as her eyes sought him out, he was nearly always doing the same.

After dinner, Bae wanted to read before bed, leaving the two of them alone on the sofa. Checking that he’d definitely left the room, Belle edged closer to Randall, slipping her hand beneath his. His fingers laced between hers. Belle tucked her head against his shoulder, just enjoying the closeness.

She nibbled her lower lip, trying not to let her curiosity get the better of her. But she hadn’t stopped thinking about it since he mentioned it. Finally, she couldn’t stop herself. “What were you thinking about, today in your shop? That, um, made the countertops a necessary disguise?”

Randall cursed softly, under his breath. “That is not a conversation we should be having with Bae still awake in the next room, sweetheart.”

Belle lifted her head to meet his eyes. “Well, he’s all the way upstairs and he’ll be asleep soon. But we could go to the bedroom, now…”

Randall glanced in the direction of his bedroom. “Not til I know he’s asleep.”

“So, why not keep me entertained until then? Tell me about your day. Don’t leave out the details.” Belle winked.

Randall shook his head, touching a fingertip lightly to the tip of her nose, “You just might be the death of me, darling.”

Belle looked at him expectantly.

He sighed. “You really want to hear what this dirty old man was thinking? How I thought about pressing you against the wall of my back room and kissing you breathless? Of worshipping your breasts, with those perfect little rosy nipples… taking them one at a time into my mouth and making you squirm as I teased you into a frenzy, never quite touching you exactly where you needed it most?” He stopped to gauge her reaction.

Belle’s mouth had fallen open, what felt like all the blood in her body rushing south to throb steadily between her legs. She pressed her thighs together and nodded for him to continue.

“Or," he continued, shakily, as though surprised the words were even falling from his mouth, "Would you rather know that I wanted to throw you onto the countertop, rip your panties off with my teeth and bury my face in your sweet pussy? I wanted to lick you until you howled my name, your juices dripping down the side of the glass case, and just keep going? Drive you over that edge again and again until you could stand no more. Until you begged me to stop…” His chest was rising and falling rapidly now, pupils blown wide, and a very noticeable bulge tenting the front of his trousers.

Belle was no better off, practically shaking with the need to touch him, feel him pressed against her, feel him move inside her. “Please? Take me to bed now?” Her voice was embarrassingly high.

Randall glanced toward the stairs, warily, and nodded. They rose together and began to head to his bedroom.

And then a scream came from above them.

Belle jumped nearly out of her skin, the mood evaporating in an instant as fear for Bae’s safety took over. Randall veered off toward the stairs and she followed without a second thought.

They trekked up as fast as Randall’s leg could go. “Nightmare,” he explained on the way. “ I told him that alien thing would give him one.”

Belle nodded, her heart only just beginning to recover its tempo, “He does have a vivid imagination.”

They made their way to Bae’s bedside, Belle suddenly realizing that she had no ready excuse for still even being in the house. Bae clung to his father, pink-cheeked and a little teary-eyed, and described the monster that had invaded his slumber. Belle stood at the foot of the bed, and wrung her hands before deciding to slip out quietly.

“No, don’t go!” Bae called.

She stopped in her tracks and turned back to see the boy reaching a hand toward her. She looked to Randall for an indication of what to do. He looked just as flustered as she felt. With an internal shrug, she returned and perched at the head of the bed, a little ways from Randall with Bae between them.

Bae extended an arm to her and curled her into the hug he was sharing with his father. Tentatively, she and Randall wrapped an arm around one another, as well.

“Feeling better, Bae?” Randall’s voice was a low rumble in the soft space between them.

Bae nodded, hugging them both tighter with a contented sigh. “I like having you both here,” he murmured.

Belle swallowed as tears pricked her eyes. Her other feelings for Randall aside, she had longed deeply for quiet moments like these. Sweet and precious in their seemingly mundane way. She lightly pet Bae’s hair, slightly damp from sweat and definitely in need of a wash. “I like being here,” she confessed, gently. She heard a slight inhale from Randall and raised her eyes to his.

Randall was looking at her intently, his face slack, but his eyes wide with a sense of wonder. She gave him a little smile and he answered it with his own.

“Aye,” he added, gaze never leaving her face. “I guess that makes three of us.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

By Saturday evening, Belle’s skin was tingling with excitement. She’d spent the afternoon at the mall with Ruby, trying on everything from the sensual to the scandalous. Ruby turned out to be vastly more knowledgeable about cut and fabric than she had even anticipated. After a she found the perfect outfit, the two of them had a day of beauty. Manicures and pedicure, eyebrows waxed and one new lipstick in Ruby’s purse (purchased as a thank you for the second convenient alibi).

Ruby peppered their conversation with questions about Belle’s mystery date, slipping them in at unexpected turns. Tenacious when she wanted something, like a wolf on the scent. Belle nearly relented and told her, but she remembered her promise to Randall. The secret would have to stand, for now.

Other details, however, Belle was happy to share. Ruby swooned over the romantic things that Randall had told her and gave an adorable little growl at the dirty talk.

“Well, I’m happy for you, B. You deserve a great guy. Even if he is a secretive fucker.” Ruby took her hand out from under the lamp and examined her nails. Blood red and shiny as plastic.

Belle had gone for a more demure look with a classic French Manicure on both fingers and toes. Though she had allowed a little flower on each big toe, with a blue gem in the center. They looked nice. She cocked her head as she looked at her friend across the table. “You know you’ll be the first person I tell, once the time is right.”

“Yeah, I know. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop bugging you, now.” Ruby grinned.

Belle made a face at her. Ruby retaliated and they soon dissolved into a fit of giggles that lasted most of the remaining drying cycle.

They walked, arm in arm, back to the diner so Ruby could start her shift. She’d agreed to stay on there one day a week, for now. And Saturday was the busiest night, so it was the one they had decided upon. Granny Lucas nodded coolly to her granddaughter, eyeing the shopping bags disapprovingly. She had a smile for Belle, though, asking after her father’s health.

Belle made a little polite conversation before following Ruby upstairs to put on her new acquisitions beneath her floral wrap dress. Ruby gave a low whistle.

“Damn, girl. I did good with you… If that doesn’t stop him in his tracks, I don’t know what will.”

Belle flushed, her stomach flipping as she pictured the look on her lover’s face. “You did great, Rubes. Seriously, you could be a personal shopper or something. That was the most fun I’ve ever had picking out lingerie.”

Ruby gave an awkward curtsy, blushing at the praise. “I’ll put that on my list of career paths to google, one of these days.”

They finished dressing and went back downstairs. As they hugged their goodbyes, Ruby whispered, “Go get ‘im, tiger.”

Belle giggled and left with a bounce in her step. Glancing at her phone, she realized that Randall would be closing the shop in about 20 minutes. Seeing as the shop was closer than his house, it wouldn’t be an inconvenience to stop there, first. Besides, after what he’d told her earlier in the week, she had a few very vivid ideas for that little cluttered space.   


***

Randall’s pulse had been racing nearly all day. A pace which seemed directly at odds with the sluggish movement of the clock. He and Belle had been able to steal a few more moments together that week, but no overnights. He had woken up from dreaming of her there beside him and been disappointed when the pillow beside his was undented. Then he remembered. Tonight he had her all to himself. In an empty house, no less. Where he could really make her scream for him. And oh, God did he intend to.

And in the morning, he had already planned to make her breakfast. He had seen her order pancakes enough at Granny’s Diner to be reasonably sure she was a fan. He had even ordered a large heart-shaped cookie stamp, though he wondered if that was over the top. Might be pushing things a bit. Perhaps he wouldn’t use it, just yet. Next time, then. He desperately hoped there’d be a next time. And the time after that. And the time after that. In fact, he’d be the happiest man on Earth to get up every morning and make heart-shaped pancakes for Belle.

He scoffed at himself in the empty shop, shaking his head. Dear Lord, he was a lovestruck idiot. It was ironic, in a way. Anyone in town would think the local monster was taking advantage of poor, innocent young Belle. Hell, even he had feverishly feared he might be. And yet this guileless, wide-eyed creature had him so wrapped around her little finger, he might never be free. Not that he wanted to be. Belle French could tie him in knots and he’d only beg to remain in captivity. He wondered if she even knew how completely and utterly she owned him. How he would fall at her feet in an instant, if she so much as breathed the word.

His hands shook and he put down the watch he was repairing. It terrified him nearly as much as it excited him, this feeling. Knowing that the fate of his heart, his very soul, lay with the capricious whim of an 18 year old girl. That was not to underestimate her maturity, the unexpected gravitas she could hold when it came to making important decisions. He wondered sometimes if growing up without a mother had that effect on a person. He had been the same, at that age. Wise beyond his years, hungry for life experiences, always too inquisitive for his own good. Though he had not had Belle’s fearlessness. Nor her kindness.

He loved how he could already see the effect she had had on Bae. The boy was always sweet and good-natured, but under Belle’s affectionate attention, he was blossoming. Becoming more outgoing, more curious about the world.

Belle held a very special place in the hearts of both Gold men. And he feared they might fall to pieces when she left for college in the Fall.

But he couldn’t think about that, now. Not when each minute brought him closer to having her in his arms once more. If it was to be so fleeting, the least he could do was enjoy every single moment they had together.

He had turned his attentions back to the watch when he heard the door to his shop jangle open.

“Be right with you,” he called, hauling himself to his feet with a sigh. All day with no company but his own. Of course a customer would show just minutes to closing. Wasn’t that always the way?

He made it to the curtain and pushed through only to find Belle French, perched on his countertop and grinning from ear to ear. She was wearing a pale blue flower print dress with a sash that wrapped around the middle. The fabric looked soft and clung to her figure. The skirt seemed to be slit up one side and fell open further as she crossed one leg over the other.

“Evening, Mr. Gold,” she greeted him nonchalantly, as though her dress were not riding up a length of thigh to where he could just see a lacey stocking-top. But from the look in her eye, there was no way she didn’t know the very tempting picture she was painting.

His heart stuttered and his stomach gave a little flip of joy. He did his best to calm them both. “Belle. What a… pleasant surprise. I thought I’d be meeting you at the house, sweetheart.”

She shrugged, leaning back on her hands so he could fully admire the way her dress accentuated her slender curves. “I thought I’d come here first… I, uh, can’t stop thinking about what you told me, earlier. The things you think about here in the shop. What you… what you want to do to me.” She voice dropped, low and husky, as she finished the last sentence. The glint in her eye turned from playful to hungry.

Randall’s breath caught, his cock suddenly taking an avid interest in the proceedings. He adjusted himself without thinking and Belle’s eyes flicked to the movement. Her grin widened and he was reminded of the proverbial cat whose canary dinner had been so very satisfying. Only he knew it was Belle who was about to be devoured.  

That final niggling bit of common sense pushed its way through the haze of lust as he approached her. “The front window…”

She reached for him, uncrossing her legs so he might stand between them. “You can’t see this corner, I checked. And I locked the door when I came in. And flipped the sign.” She glanced around her. “You can hit the lights, too, if you like. Although, I’d prefer it if I can see you…”

Randall cursed under his breath as he felt himself harden further, now pressing uncomfortably against his zipper. He bent to capture her mouth and she met him with gusto. She slid to the very edge of the counter, curling her legs around his upper thighs and arching into him. The minute he touched her lips with his tongue, they parted. The hand not holding his cane went to her lower back to hold her close. He could feel her sigh as she melted against him. One of her hands buried in his hair, tugging in a way that sent tingles of pleasure down his spine. The other small hand slid down to his arse. She grasped the flesh there, pressing him harder into her core.

He could already feel her heat against his length. He ground against her with a growl, wanting nothing more than to tear away the layers of cloth that still separated them.

Suddenly, she pushed him lightly from her. He withdrew, swallowing a whimper of disappointment. Her eyes wild, lips swollen from his kisses, face flushed. God, she was unspeakably perfect.

She untied the sash at the back of her dress, the fabric going slack. “I had one more little surprise for you. I was gonna wait until we got to the house to model it for you. But I don’t think the panties will be staying on much longer, at this rate,” she giggled and bit her bottom lip. “Step back for a sec?”

He obeyed and she slid off of the counter, pulling the sides of the dress apart to let it fall at her feet. And his breath caught in his throat.

She wore a simple and delicate confection of cream colored lace with gold threads running through it. It shimmered in a way that was both alluring and coquettishly demure. The bra accentuated her small breasts, the tops perfectly rounded above the cups. The lace clung to her ribcage and stopped there, revealing her taut stomach. Sitting at mid-hip was a lacey pair of knickers and a matching garter belt. The belt held up sheer nude stockings with just a hint of sheen. When she half-turned to model the outfit, he noticed the knickers were gathered at the back, allowing the delicious twin globes of her buttocks to peek out.

His mouth watered and his cock throbbed as he drank in the sight in stunned silence.

She bit her lower lip, looking up at him from under her sooty lashes. “You… like?”

He groaned inwardly. “Sweetheart… ‘like’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he managed at last, moving back toward her. Leaning his cane against the counter, he skimmed his hands along the lace – surprisingly soft to the touch, though her skin was infinitely softer. Belle hummed her approval and leaned into his hands. He could feel her puckered nipples through the fabric as he palmed her breasts. He flicked them with his thumbs and Belle’s hips juddered against his.

With a grin, he backed her up to the counter, helping to lift her up so she was sitting on the glass once more.  His hands settled at her hips, plucking at the top of her knickers. “It’s lucky I appreciate the value of beautiful things or I might just rip these apart, right now.”

Belle made a needy little sound and leaned back on her hands, allowing him to roll the undergarment down and off of her legs. The gusset was completely soaked and he swore under his breath. With his eyes on her, he tucked them into his pocket. He’d probably give them back, later. Probably. Or he’d buy her more. Hell, he’d buy her a whole bloody lingerie store if she so much as suggested she might like a new set.

Her lips found his, eager and fervent, hot messy kisses turning to a nip at her jaw and then her ear. He trailed his mouth and tongue down her neck, savoring each collarbone. He pushed down the lace cups to suckle her nipples. She writhed and shunted her hips toward him. One hand idly traced her stocking top as he teased her breasts. When he finally reached the apex of her legs, she moaned his name in a way that made his eyes nearly roll back in his head.

And, oh yes, she was dripping onto the countertop, just as he had dreamed. He pushed her back further, grabbing the stool he kept behind the register and lowering himself until he was nearly eye level with her sex.

She was spread shamelessly before him, glistening and flushed. She smelled like heaven. With another swear, his cock now achingly hard, he buried his face between her thighs. Her hands slid into his hair, stroking and tugging when he hit a spot she particularly liked. All day he’d been craving her touch, her taste in his mouth. He could have feasted on her all night. Her legs began to shake and her cries grew inarticulate. She clutched at his hair and moaned as he greedily drank down her climax. Before she could even come down from one peak, he slid two fingers into her depths, rubbing that hidden spot. He pumped in and out as her inner muscles clenched around his digits. She shouted his name as she came once more, and a moment later, he realized he had spilled himself within his trousers.

This time, he didn’t mind in the slightest.


	13. Chapter 13

Belle left the shop first, slipping out the back to make her way over to his house. Randall had offered to drive her but she’d reminded him that they were trying to be discreet. Driving his teenage lover to his home in the waning daylight, while town residents commuted all around them, hardly fit the bill.

In the end, he was grateful for a brief respite, to calm the racing of his blood and pounding of his heart. Just being near Belle, knowing he finally had the right and the open invitation to touch her, kiss her… it could be a little overwhelming at times. He ached for her, the warmth of her small body in his arms, her smell on his sheets.

Randall hadn’t realized how truly lonely he’d been, before. The time spent pining after her felt so ridiculous, now. But how could he have ever known that Belle would welcome him with open arms? Until that fateful night when he’d seen her in his bed, he’d never even suspected his desire might be returned. Humming to himself, excitement still thrumming through his body, he tidied up the shop and left for home. Where Belle would be waiting.

Sure enough, he’d given her ample time to make the short walk and she had arrived before him. The moment he stepped through the door, she pulled him in for a kiss.

“Dinner, first? Or,” she grinned wickedly, “after dessert?”

Randall grinned down at her. “As much as I would happily spend the entire evening in bed with you, man cannot live on sex alone...” he brushed his lips to hers once more and pulled back reluctantly, “though, you do make it an appealing prospect.”

Belle swatted him playfully. “Mmm, yes, but I do need you to build up your strength. You’re gonna need it.” She slipped her hand in his, pulling away to lead him to the kitchen. “What should we make?”

 They settled on a simple pasta dish and a salad, setting up tray tables in the living room so they could snuggle on the sofa while they ate. Belle was just licking away a stray spot of tomato sauce from the side of Randall’s mouth when they suddenly heard the door rattle. The sound of a key turning in the lock sent Belle launching herself across the sofa. By the time the door opened and Bae stepped through, they were sitting at opposite ends, both breathing a little harder but otherwise casual in appearance.

The boy dropped his overnight bag on the floor with a sigh, then seemed to notice the two of them, staring at him from the couch. “Hey Poppa. Hey Belle.”

Belle and Randall exchanged frantic looks. Randall got to his feet and approached his son, “Bae, are you alright? What… um, did the sleepover get canceled?”

Bae pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Mrs. Shue sent us home because Georgie got sick. He totally puked all over the pizza. It smelled like hot dogs.” A slight upturn at the corner of his mouth, “it was gross.”

“Ah. Are you feeling alright, son?” Randall put his wrist to the boy’s forehead to check for a fever.

Bae wriggled away. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just hungry.” He looked past his father to the plates of half-eaten pasta. “Can I have some spaghetti?”

Randall looked helplessly back at Belle, who jumped to her feet.

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll get you a plate. But you got have a little salad too, deal?”

Bae wrinkled his nose. “Okay. But only ‘cause I’m starving to death.”

Belle smiled indulgently and head to the kitchen, shrugging one shoulder at Randall as she passed. Bae seemed utterly nonplussed to find her here, so maybe they ought to just play along…

Bae went on to describe the game they had been playing at the party before Georgie’s unfortunate pizza encounter. It sounded like a form of a form of Follow the Leader with added rounds of Tag and Hide and Seek. And pirates, apparently.

“No, you can’t be the first mate if you got put in the brig last turn so you have to pick a better hiding spot or else you’re It,” Bae explained, gesticulating with both hands.

“And being It is…. good? Or…. not good?” Randall attempted to clarify.

Bae rolled his eyes and laughed, “Oh my God, Pop. You would lose so bad.”

“So badly,” Belle corrected, emerging from the kitchen with a plate and a bowl.  Bae set up a tray table for himself and thanked her before digging in.

Belle slid back into the seat beside Randall, at a polite distance. The three ate in silence, save occasional lip smacking noises from Bae. Once the boy had polished off two plates of pasta and half a bowl of salad, he flopped back against the sofa back and turned to his father.

“Um, Pop?”

“Yes?” Randall looked up from his own plate. He’d eaten sparingly, appetite somewhat spoiled by the uneasiness of having such an elephant in the room. Belle’s plate looked similar, the food mostly pushed around rather than eaten.

Bae looked down, shyly. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” He inclined his head toward the kitchen.

Taken aback, Randall blinked down at his son, “Of course.” He and Belle exchanged curious looks but he followed Bae into the kitchen.

Once there, Bae frowned, twisting his hands in front of him and shuffling his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“What? No! Not in the slightest.” Randall affectionately smoothed Bae’s rumpled curls. “Why would you think I was?” he asked, softly.

Bae wiggled his right leg and shrugged. “Well, I kinda ruined your date.”

Randall almost swallowed his own tongue. “Date?” he gasped.

“With Belle.” Bae finally met his father’s gaze. “I didn’t mean to but when I called, you didn’t answer. So, I just had Mrs. Shue drop me off anyway.”

Randall felt his face go hot. He’d left his phone in his coat pocket, hung up by the door. He’d been so distracted by Belle’s wonderful mouth… Shite. “Bae… Belle was just here to… she was helping me with…” he floundered for words. How could he be so articulate with District Attorneys and politicians, yet fall apart in the face of his ten year old son? From the look on Bae’s face, he wasn’t buying it, anyway.

“Dad… I’m ten. I’m not stupid.” Bae sat on one of the kitchen chairs, kicking his legs.

Numbly, Randall pulled up a chair close to his son. “How… so, how do you feel about that? Belle and… and me?”

“It’s cool. I love Belle and I love you, so, I think it’s great. Plus, you’re way less lame around her than you were. I mean, not that you’re not a great dad, but you can be kinda,” Bae widened his eyes, the corners of his mouth pulling down and his tongue sticking out, “Belle makes you… I dunno… you smile more and you’re nicer to people when she’s around.”

Randall found his son’s assessment was not that far off. “I care about her a great deal, Bae.”

Bae nodded vigorously. “Me too.”

Randall’s heart gave a heavy thump and he pulled his son into a hug. Bae squeezed his father’s ribcage so hard in return, Randall wondered briefly if he might bruise.

Muffled by Randall’s shirt, Bae muttered, “I want you to be happy, Poppa.”

Happiness had always been relative in Randall’s life. For the foreseeable future, it had always taken the shape of Bae. Whatever made his son smile was his top priority. Now, Belle was there, too. And she may not be a permanent fixture and it would hurt like bloody hell when she left. But for now, here she was and she did make him unspeakably happy. He would have to find a way to be content with that and he hoped Bae would understand, when the time came.

Randall dropped a kiss to the top of Bae’s head and replied, in all honesty, “I am, son. I am happy.”

***

Belle and Randall tucked Bae into bed, taking turns reading aloud from his favorite book. The boy fell asleep smiling. Randall brushed a dark curl back from his son’s face and kissed the boy’s cheek. Then, he turned his gaze back to Belle. Silently, they left the room and headed downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, they faced one another, an echo of their first night together.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” she asked.

Randall nodded gravely.

She took a deep, steadying breath. “And?”

He gave a shy, half-smile. “He said… that he wants me to be happy.”

It felt like a silly question to ask, because the answer ought to be obvious, but Belle felt she needed to know. She needed to hear the words aloud. “Are you? Happy?”

Randall looked slightly taken aback at that, cupping her cheek with his free hand. “Oh, sweetheart… more than I ever thought I could be.”

Belle’s heart gave a little leap and she raised up on her toes to kiss him. “Me too,” she whispered.

He returned the kiss, his fingers burying in her hair to keep her close. Her lips parted to taste him, rich and tangy from the spaghetti sauce. She felt his other arm wrap around her, his hand angling the cane outward. His tongue stroked hers leisurely, and she lost herself to the sensations between them. This was exactly where she wanted to be. Always.

His body began to react, hardening against her belly, and he broke the kiss with a sigh. “I don’t… I don’t know if we should…. just now. It’s one thing for Bae to know we’re dating. The rest is, um, not exactly something we’ve discussed much, yet.”

Belle tried very hard not to pout. She understood the reasoning. Sneaking around hadn’t been ideal, either. But she didn’t want to make Randall’s parenting duties any harder than they had to be. “Should I go? I suppose I could say Ruby got sick and I had to go home. Bae even gave me a great story to use,” she gave him a wistful grin.

Randall hesitated, stroking her hair. “I should say yes and send you on your way. If I was a responsible man, a good man, I’d have done that in the first place.”

Belle’s stomach sank.

“But,” Randall continued, “I’m just a foolish selfish old beast. And… I’d like you to stay.”

Belle’s face lit with a smile. She tapped the tip of his nose with her forefinger. “You are a good man, Randall Gold. Bae knows it and I know it. And really, our opinions are the only ones that matter, anyway.” She winked.

He chuckled, ducking his head to capture her lips once more. They kissed until they were both breathless and had to pull apart. “Very dangerous,” he murmured, softly.

“What?”

He swallowed hard, eyes roving her face. “Having you in my home.”

Belle entwined the fingers and pulled him in the direction of his bedroom. “Hm,” she mused, “don’t think I’ve ever been called dangerous, before. I rather like the sound of it.”

Randall laughed again, quietly.

It was early, but they found themselves getting ready for bed. It was then that Belle realized she hadn’t brought sleepwear, at least not the kind designed to actually be slept in. Randall flushed as he took in the bit of lace she produced from her overnight bag. They quickly settled on her borrowing a clean undershirt and pair of boxers. Randall changed into his regular pajamas.

Belle produced a book from her bag and Randall had one on his nightstand. They cuddled up under the covers to read. It was a delicate kind of torture, Belle decided, being this close to the man she loved and not putting her hands or mouth on him. Even a few chaste kisses and gentle touches soon found them flustered and wanting. At least their efforts in the shop had taken some of the edge off, but it was cold comfort to the throbbing need between her legs.

After the fourth time a hand had begun to wander too far, they decided it might be best to call it a night and go to sleep. No reading had been accomplished, anyway.

Belle squeezed her eyes shut tight, her head resting over Randall’s heart. His very scent was driving her wild. She tried to let her breathing fall into rhythm with his, ignoring the sticky dampness of her knickers.

Randall’s body relaxed beneath her but Belle could not seem to fall asleep. She extricated herself from his embrace, reluctantly. Perhaps if they weren’t touching…

It was no good. His cologne lingered on his pillows, as it always had. She remembered vividly how it had fueled her fantasy the night she took liberties with herself in this very bedroom. Well, that was always an option, she supposed…

She slid a hand beneath the elastic, spreading the dampness there to her sensitive nub. She circled the hood with her finger, biting into her lip to stay quiet.

“Sweetheart?”

Belle froze, hand still between her thighs. “Yeah?”

She felt him roll over, tucking his body around hers, cock pressing into her backside. His hand smoothed over her hip and down the length of her arm.

He stopped just short of her hand. “May I?” His voice was low and breathy in her ear. “Please?”

“What about….?”

He rolled away and she turned to see his silhouette as he rose from the bed. He went to the door and she heard a click. “Truth is, Belle, I’m an idiot and locks were invented for a reason.”

She laughed as she sat up to chuck off the cotton shirt and boxers. “Oh thank God.”

The bed dipped as he crawled back toward her. “Now, where were we?”


	14. Chapter 14

The bed dipped as he crawled back toward her. “Now, where were we?”

Belle came up onto her knees to meet him halfway, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I like right here, to start.” She covered his mouth with hers and he made a soft sound of appreciation. His hands came to her hips, kneading the flesh there as their kiss grew deeper. She could feel him hard against her belly. She slid one hand between them to shape the length of his cock through his pajama pants. He growled his approval, one hand slipping to her buttock to grasp it firmly.

Her other hand went to the buttons of his shirt, they were slipped easily through the holes of the silky material. She quickly had him shirtless, reluctantly breaking their kiss to push him back against the pillows. He raised an eyebrow at her as she straddled him.

“What?” she murmured, suddenly self conscious. She’d never been on top, before.

He grinned, sliding both hands up her thighs to settle at her hips. “Just enjoying the view.”

Her face flushed at his low, smooth tone. Bracing herself with both hands against his shoulders, she leaned down to kiss him. His hands traced up and down her spine as she gave herself over to increasingly heated kisses. When they were both breathless, she pulled away to nuzzle her way along his jaw, slipping a hand between them. She was already dripping wet, her pussy clenching and needy. She lined them up, blindly, feeling the blunt head of his cock push against her lower lips. Shifting her hips and straightening her spine, she sank down his length. He released a loud groan. One hand flew to his mouth to mute the sound and Belle giggled.

“Find that funny, do you?” he murmured, his eyes glinting with mischief and affection.

Belle bit her lower lip and grinned. “No. I like the sounds you make.” She rolled her hips and he made a sound deep in his throat.

“Mm, likewise,” he conceded, grasping her hips again and thrusting up into her.

This time, Belle had to cover her own mouth as a mewl escaped her. Thinking quickly, she readjusted her position laying along his chest, propped up on one hand, the other seeking out his soft hair. “We’ll never stay quiet at that rate. So, I suppose we’ll have to keep our mouths occupied, too,” she whispered against his lips. She felt him smile.

“That’s why you’re the brains of this operation.”

And then they were kissing again, tongues slipping against one another as their bodies came together and apart. As he set a steady pace, sliding deep within her, Belle felt herself spiralling up that delicious peak. Her body tingled and warmth spread over her, a slow sweet completion. More perfect than even the moment of her own climax, was feeling Randall come apart inside her. How his arms tightened, enveloping her and holding her so very close. How he buried his face against her shoulder to breath her in.

They stayed entwined in the afterglow, her skin humming with contentment, his hands stroking lazily up and down her back. She mourned the loss of fullness as he softened and slipped from her. She could stay joined with him forever, she thought.

Could it always be like this? Was there a chance?

“Randall?”

“Hmm?” He sounded sleepy and far away.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. Three little words that could seal their fate, one way or another. She was telling herself to be brave, to just say how she felt, when Randall snored lightly in her ear.

Belle exhaled shakily, her heart falling into her stomach. Now was not the time. She wasn’t sure if what she felt was disappointment or relief. Perhaps both. Rolling to one side, she found a comfortable spot, tucked under his arm with her head on his chest. He made an incoherent  noise and nuzzled the top of her head.

“Goodnight… my love,” she whispered against his chest.

***

Randall woke that morning feeling lighter inside than he could ever remember. The woman he loved was curled up against his side, his fingers buried in her auburn curls. Her breath was soft and even against his chest, her body warm and slack with sleep. His heart felt full to bursting.

He could have stayed gladly entwined with her all day but the sun was risen and no doubt his son had, as well. With some care, he eased himself to sitting. Belle stirred gently, making sleepy little murmurs and rolled away. He could let her sleep on, for now. There was no danger in allowing her this. Bae already knew they had “sleepovers” and had readily given his blessing.

Randall’s smile widened as he thought of his boy’s earnest face.

_I want you to be happy, Poppa._

Oh, and he was. Deliriously so. Happy enough to spend his days deluding himself that this could last beyond the year, that Belle would not go off to college and meet a younger, handsomer man. Randall was so far gone that he’d been eyeing rings in the jewelry case, debating on which would look nicer on Belle’s slender left hand. There was a dainty antique gold one with a marquise cut sapphire surrounded by diamonds that would bring out her eyes beautifully.

Picturing the look he longed to see on her face as he slid the ring onto her finger, he slid on his robe. He cast another look at the beauty in his bed, eyes lovingly tracing the contours of her face, the curve of her hip beneath the sheet. The tops of her breasts were just visible and he wanted to bury his face there and breathe her in. Not now, though.

Now, he’d a mind to make breakfast.

Belle must have smelled the frying bacon and she came wandering into the kitchen wearing one of his old t-shirts over a rolled up pair of pajama pants. She was barefoot and her hair still mussed. She looked adorable and he couldn’t resist winking at her as she helped herself to some coffee. She flushed slightly, tucking a stray curl behind one ear with a shy smile, and took the seat across from Bae.

Bae looked up from the book on space travel he’d brought to the table and grinned at her. “Mornin’ Belle! Did you sleep good?”

“Well. Did I sleep well,” Belle corrected gently. “And yes, I slept very, very well. Thank you.”

Bae nodded. “Oh good. I slept _well_ , too. Do you want to go to the park, today?”

“Sorry?” Belle asked, at the non sequitur.

“Poppa said he’s not going to open the shop today. We’re going to go to the park, instead. Bring some old bread for the ducks, maybe have a picnic for lunch. Say you’ll come?”

Randall glanced over one shoulder, interested to hear her response. It wouldn’t be such a terrible risk, going out together with Bae. Belle’s affection for her young charge was well known about town and Bae, luckily, carried very little of his father’s social stigma.

Belle caught Randall’s eye, lifting both brows. “I wouldn’t be intruding, would I? On a father-son day?”

“No! It’s a family day!” Bae insisted, kneeling in his chair and leaning halfway over the table on crossed arms.  “And you’re family, now.” He turned toward Randall. “Isn’t she, Poppa?”

Belle’s mouth fell slightly open, her cheeks going pale and eyes wide. “Am I?” she breathed.

Randall’s hand on the spatula tightened, his jaw twitching as his heart seemed suddenly ready to beat it’s way out of his chest. “Aye. If… if you want to be.”

A smile blossomed across Belle’s face, her eyes alight. “Oh yes. Yes. Let’s all go together…. Randall.”

“Then a family day at the park, it is. You two talk sandwiches, yeah?” A lump rose in Randall’s throat and he turned back to the bacon before it burned. His breath was coming short and he felt ready to cry with happiness. Could it be? Belle really wanted to be seen with him, not as his son’s babysitter, but as… as part of his family. Belle Gold.

Yes, he very much liked the sound of that. Perhaps he wouldn’t sell that ring, after all.

***

They lounged on a blanket by the duck pond, Bae and a friend he’d met on the playground chasing one another around the water and laughing. There was decent shade under the tree but Belle was glad she’d packed a sundress. The weather had taken a wam turn, today. Spring was in the air and bees buzzed past them, drunk on all the blooming flowers.

Leaning on one hand, legs curled behind her, Belle ran her free hand through the soft grass, very conscious of Randall at her shoulder.

“He’s… very attached to you, you know,” Randall murmured, eyes on his son.

Belle studied him from under her lashes. He’d forgone the usual suit for slacks and a button down shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow the top two buttons undone. He looked… almost hedonistic compared to the buttoned up Mr. Gold of his shop. When he’d come down the stairs in that, she’d had half a mind to drag him right back up. But there’d been a very excited ten year old ready to head to the park.

“I’m very attached to him,” she replied, scooting closer until her fingers on the blanket could overlap his. “And his father,” she added, boldly, bringing her eyes to his.

He drew in a breath and licked his lips. “Belle... “ His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, eyes searching her face. “I would like… that is… I have a great deal of…” He winced, eyes squeezing shut and re-opening.

His cheeks were flushed and Belle suspected it was not with the heat. Her free hand plucked nervously at the grass, anticipating what he was trying - albeit quite badly - to say to her. At least, she hoped she was right.

“I love you, Randall Gold,” the words burst forth, water from a dam. She had tried to hold back ,tried to be certain she was not making an utter fool of herself. But even if that wasn’t what he wanted to say, it was what she needed him to hear. Even if he thought her mad. Even if he laughed.

“I love you with every breath I take, every beat of my heart.” Now she’d started, she couldn’t stop herself. It was just like that day in his shop, the day of their first kiss.  “And I want to be with you more than I want to breathe. I want to wake every morning in your arms and kiss you goodnight every evening. I want to be a mum to Bae and take care of you both. And I know I’m young and silly and perhaps foolishly romantic. But summer is on it’s way and I… can’t wait any longer to make the decision on schools. I want to stay here. In Storybrooke. With you and Bae. But if that’s not what this is… that’s not what you want, I’ll send my acceptance to Harvard and I’ll be gone in the Fall. No hard feelings. Just…” she sighed, “just bitterwseet memories.”

Well… he wasn’t laughing.

In fact, he wasn’t reacting at all, just staring at her, agape and unmoving.

She shifted her weight so she could fully cover his hand with hers. “Is that… have I said too much?”

At last he shook his head, lips curving into a tremulous smile. “Never.  You could never say too much, my Belle. Not when you speak like that… His hand beneath hers turned upward, entwining their fingers. “Say it again? Just so I know I’m not dreaming?”

Belle released the breath she’d been holding, smiling so hard her face hurt. “I love you, Randall.”

“And I love you, my sweet darling Belle,” he enthused, squeezing her hand.

Impulsively, she leaned in to kiss him. He kissed back eagerly, plucking at her lips with his and suckling her bottom lip gently. She melted into him, one hand coming to the back of his neck to keep him close. His hand not holding hers was warm on her knee, fiddling with the hem of her dress. They breathed in tandem, drinking one another down in the dappled sunlight of a perfect Spring day.

The world around them was falling away… only to be brought crashing back down around their ears as Belle heard a startled voice cry:

“Mr. Gold!”

They pulled apart hastily to see a tall redhead standing above them with burning eyes. “You pervert! I should have known! I’m going to tell the whole bloody town what a disgusting cad, you are!” The tirade carried on, the scattered few in the park halting their various activities to take in the spectacle.

Randall looked horrified, scrambling backward and rucking up the blanket in an attempt to block Belle bodily from the brunt of the woman’s wrath. Belle realized she recognized the older woman from Gold’s shop.

Zelena.

Belle felt her anger rise, her fists clenching. How dare this woman, this sleazy piece of garbage who had assaulted the man she loved, think she had any right to pass judgment on them. Belle shot to her feet, handing Randall his cane and helping him up.

He faced the redhead with  a scowl.

“What have you got to say for yourself, you Scottish pig? Hmm?” Zelena’s hands went to her hips.

“Zelena, I believe I have told you that my affairs are just that. Mine. And absolutely no business of yours.” He spoke from between clenched teeth, gold tooth glinting.

Zelena’s lip curled. “To think I let you kiss me. You… you paedophile!”

Belle cut in front of Randall, “How dare you! How dare you throw around such an ugly and unfounded accusation! You, who threw yourself at my boyfriend and stuck your very unwelcome tongue down his throat.”

Zelena opened her mouth as though to respond but Belle cut her off and kept going. “Oh yes, he told me all about that. If anyone broke a law around here, it’s you. He made it clear he did not want you and yet you touched him, practically tried to force yourself on him. I saw it, you know. I didn’t know the context at the time, but I’d be happy to make a full report to Sheriff Graham, now. What do you think? Should we go down to the station? You want to accuse him of committing a crime but here I am, a legal consenting adult. Do you know what it’s called, what you did? Did you know that was assault?”

Zelena’s mouth was hanging fully open, now. All around, people were staring openly at Belle in her fury. She didn’t care, her focus was narrowed to only the man at her back and the women before her.

“You… how… you couldn’t possibly… I would never!” Zelena sputtered, at last.

“Wouldn’t you? Because I know what I saw,” Belle asserted again, her voice even, despite her racing heart.

Zelena backed away slowly, looking around at the small crowd as though one of them would help her. But for all Gold was not well liked in Storybrooke, he was still one of them. Zelena had flown in from out of town and treated them all like dirt beneath her feet. In the time she’d been there, she’d made only enemies and no friends. Someone in the crowd gave a wolf-whistle and clapped.

“Yeah, Belle! Tell the bitch!” Ruby pumped her fist in the air. A tremor of laughter ran through those gathered and a few others clapped or whistled.  

Now nearly as red as her hair, Zelena took off down the street, screeching. “Horrible. You’re all horrible! You deserve each other!”

The crowd lingered a few moments longer, murmuring amongst themselves and casting glances at Randall and Belle. Still trembling with her rage, Belle let Randall pull her into his arms, burying her face against his shoulder.

Into her hair, Randall whispered, “You. Are. Amazing.”

She wrapped both arms around him and held on tight, not trusting herself to speak again, yet.

“Oh, go on and continue your Sunday, lookie-loos,” came Ruby’s voice, closer now. “Show’s over.”

There was a tap on Belle’s shoulder and she lifted her head to see Ruby looking at her with crossed arms.

“Hey Rubes. Thank you. I… I really appreciated the support.”

Ruby’s eyes flicked to Randall, who smoothed a comforting hand down Belle’s spine, and then back to Belle’s flushed face.

“Yeah,” the taller girl said, cracking her gum. “I always got your back, sis. But, uh, you know you now owe me, like, the mother of all sleepover girl talk sessions, right?”

Belle felt her knees go watery with relief, “Yeah, I owe you big time. Ice cream and pizza, on me.”

Ruby nodded. “Better believe it.” She nodded to Randall. “Mr. Gold.”

Randall nodded. “Miss Lucas.”

“You don’t take extra good care of her, you know this town will tear you apart.”

Belle could feel Randall swallow.

“Yes, Miss Lucas. I’m aware. And I have no intention of giving them any cause to.”

“Good.” Ruby nodded again and sashayed away.

Bae ran up and threw his arms around both of them. Belle smoothed his hair, reassuringly. He turned his face upward. “Why was that red haired lady yelling at you?”

Belle and Randall exchanged looks.

Randall cleared his throat. “She was mad at me because… because I love Belle and not her. Sometimes people get angry about things like that.”

Bae seemed to consider this for a moment, head cocking and mouth twisting. “Well, I’m glad you chose Belle. That lady seemed horrible. I didn’t like her at all.” He pulled back, slipping his hand into Belle’s. “Can we go home, now?”

Belle smiled and looked at Randall, who nodded. “Yes, let’s go home and put on a movie, shall we?”

Arm in arm, Bae wandering ahead, humming to himself and chattering at squirrels, they walked back to the pink house.

“I, um, I feel I ought to have a word with your father, Belle.”

Belle blushed, “How… old fashioned.”

“Pre-emptive, more like. There’s a good chance he may want to kill me,” Randall half-jested.

Belle stopped them both in their tracks, looking up at him very seriously. “Randall, no one decides my future but me. And my father loves me. He may not understand the choice I’ve made but when he sees how happy I am, I’ve no doubt he’ll come around.”

His mouth quirked. “You can be quite persuasive, I’ve noticed,” he observed. “What you said to Zelena… how did you know? I tried not to…”

“I read between the lines, Randall. And I am doubly sorry that I ever doubted you for it.” She raised up on tip toes to brush her lips to his.

“Please, don’t mention it. No one has ever stood up for me like that, before. Except Bae,” Randall chuckled, ruefully. He looked away and then back, his face thoughtful. “You know… University of Maine has an excellent pre-law program and it’s only about an hour away from here.”

Belle grinned. “I know. I’ve had their acceptance letter in my bedside drawer for weeks.”

Randall laughed, a full and hearty sound this time, touching his forehead to hers. “You never cease to surprise and delight me, my Belle.”

“Good,” Belle whispered against his lips, “my Randall.” And she kissed him again, savoring the taste of a thousand tomorrows, each better than the last.

 

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read and commented and kudos'd!! It means the world to me! Like my other fic, this will be open to asks on [my tumblr blog](http://thescholarlystrumpet.tumblr.com/)


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